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TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WHSTIR.N.Y.  14SS0 

(716)872-4503 


4 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Tachnical  and  Bibliocraphic  Notas/Notaa  tachniquaa  at  bibliographiquaa 


Tha  InatUuta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
original  copy  availabia  for  fiiming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibiic  jraphicaiiy  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  Imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  aignificantiy  changa 
tha  uauai  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


D 


D 


n 


n 


D 


n 


Colourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I   Covars  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagia 

Covars  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastaurAa  at/ou  palliculAa 


I      I   Covar  titia  missing/ 


La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 


I     I   Colourad  maps/ 


Cartas  gAographiquas  an  coulaur 

Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  biua  or  black)/ 
Encre  da  coulsur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


I      I   Coloured  platas  and/or  illustrations/ 


Pianchas  at/ou  illustrations  an  coulaur 

Bound  with  othar  material/ 
Rail6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr6e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
11  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  ceia  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  At*  filmies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentairas  supplAmentaires; 


L'inatitut  a  microfilm*  la  maillaur  axamplaira 
qu'il  lul  a  At*  poaaibia  da  aa  procurer.  Las  ditaila 
da  cat  exemplaira  qui  sontc  paut-Atra  uniquaa  du 
point  da  vue  bibliographiqua,  qui  pauvant  modifier 
una  image  raproduite,  ou  qui  peuvant  axigar  una 
modification  dana  la  mAthoda  normala  de  f ilmage 
aont  indiquAs  ci-daaaous. 


1 
t 


I     I   Colourai!  pagea/ 


D 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pagaa  andommagAaa 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaurAas  at/ou  paliiculAes 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxei 
Pages  dAcoiorAes,  tachatAas  ou  piquAaa 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  dAtachAas 

Showthroughy 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit*  inAgala  de  I'lmpression 

Includes  supplementary  matarii 
Comprend  du  matAriai  supplAmentaira 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seula  Mition  diaponibia 


r~~|  Pages  damaged/ 

I — I  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

r~^  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

j~l  Pages  detached/ 

r~3  Showthrough/ 

r~~|  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

n~j  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I — I  Only  edition  available/ 


1 

f 

c 
f 


C 

fa 
t 

s 

0 

f 


7 

s 
T 
v 

IV 
d 

e 
b 
ri 
u 
n 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  ref limed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totaiement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  una  pelure, 
etc..  ont  At*  filmAes  A  nouveau  de  fa^on  A 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  rAduction  indiquA  ci-dessous 

10X                            14X                            18X                            22X 

26X 

»X 

/ 

§■■■« 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


Th4  copy  filmed  here  has  baen  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  off: 

D.  B.  Weldon  Ubrary 
Univanity  of  Wettem  Ontario 


L'exemplaire  ffilmA  fut  reproduit  gr^'^e  h  la 
gAntrositt  de: 

D.B.Waldon  Ubrary 
Univartity  of  Waitam  Ontario 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  M  reproduites  avec  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  netteti  de  rexsmplaire  f  ilm6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
"r  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  exemplairos  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimie  sont  filmte  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  ie  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  fiimds  en  commen^ant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  ^pparaitra  sur  la 
derniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  --►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbofe  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  ffilmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  loft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  fframes  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
fiim^s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Loraq'je  le  dc^^ument  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cltchi,  il  est  filmi  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  g&uche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m6thode. 


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EXETER  HALL. 


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••"Wliat  is  TrutliP*» 


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NEW-YORK: 

THE  AMEEIOAN  IJTEWS  OOMPAIfr; 

I860. 


V 


I 


•    '  *■ 


151631 


jf 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

THOMAS  BROWN, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  Sfktes  for  the  Southern  District 

of  New- York. 


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'tea! 


EXETEE  HALL. 


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CHAPTER  I. 

BXETKR   HALL. 

Exeter  Hall  is  a  very  large  building  situ- 
ated near  the  Strand,  one  of  the  principal 
Btieets  of  London.  It  lias  accommodation  for 
over  four  thousand  persona,  and  it  is  the  great 
Protestant  forum  and  centre  of  attraction  for 
all  those  who  anxiously  desire  the  spread  of 
the  Gospel,  the  dissemination  of  Christianity, 
and  the  evangelization  of  the  world.  It  is 
also  the  head-quarters  and  grand  rallying-point 
of  those  armies  of  prelates,  preachers,  pro- 
fessors, missionaries,  and  other  devoted  men 
who,  from  time  to  time,  assert  a  renunciation 
of  the  world,  its  pomps  and  vanities ;  many  of 
whom,  taking  their  lives  in  their  hand,  as 
eager  to  sutler  in  the  glorious  cause,  sever 
social  and  domestic  ties,  and  leave  home  and 
country,  to  spread  in  distant  lands  and  over 
the  dark  places  of  the  earth  "  the  unsearch- 
able riches  "  among  the  millions  yet  destitute, 
of  the  degraded  and  perishing  sons  and 
daughters  of  Adam. 

Exeter  Hall  has  a  fame.  Since  its  erection, 
about  1831,  no  other  place  in  the  world  has 
attracted  such  crowds  of  social  renovators, 
moral  philosophers,  philanthropists,  and  Chris- 
tians. Of  late  years,  almost  every  great  mea- 
sure for  the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of 
the  human  family  has  here  had  its  inception, 
its  progress,  and  its  triumph.  Surrounded  as 
it  is  by  theatres,  Shakespearean  temples  de- 
voted to  the  drama,  or,  as^  many  of  the  reli- 
gions world  assert,  to  profane,  vicious,  and  un- 
godly purposes,  Exeter  Hall  alone  lias  the 
proud  dintinction  of  being  tlie  great  theatre 
tor  the  concentration  of  Protestant  Cliristian- 
ity.  From  this  great  stand-point,  the  wisdom, 
intelligence,  and  power  of  whole  nations  have 
been  Ijrought  to  bear  against  usages,  systems, 
and  laws  antagonistic  to  the  pure  faith ;  and 
a  remedy  suggested  and  provided  for  the 
moral  and  religious  destitution  of  the  world. 

But  not  altogether  are  measures  purely  re- 
ligious enacted  in  this  great  building.  Secu- 
lar schemes  of  practical  benevolence,  scarcely 
second  in  importance  to  any  other,  are  here 
developed ;  social  and  national  reforms  are 
hero  patronized ;  music,  science,  philosophy, 
and  literature  are  encouraged ;  and  personal, 


% 


national,  and  political  wrongs  feelingly  de- 
picted ;  and  often  some  British  Demosthenes 
will  here  make  a  stirring  appeal  before  a 
thousand  freemen  in  behalf  of  an  oppressed 
people  or  down-trodden  country ;  and  then 
there  is  a  shout  for  liumar  rights,  and  in  that 
shout,  as  is  always  tho  case,  the  voice  of 
Exeter  Hall  is  heard  over  all  the  earth. 

But  it  is  in  the  genial  month  of  May  that 
this  great  theatre  displays  its  power,  and  ex- 
ercises its  wonted  energies.  Like  the  season, 
it  seems  invigorated  ;  there  is  an  infusion  of 
new  life  for  a  fresh  effort,  and  in  that  effort 
lie  the  germs  which,  having  been  generously 
moistened  by  national  dew-drops  of  a  peculiar 
kind,  are  sure  to  mature  into  a  bountiful  har- 
vest. In  May  there  is,  as  it  were,  a  flowing  of 
the  nations  of  the  world  toward  its  great  cap- 
ital ;  and  at  that  particular  period  the  rush 
through  the  Strand  to  the  immense  Hall  is 
wonderful,  and  its  walls  resound  to  li^e  tfamp 
of  people  of  every  clime  and  tongue. ,  Dele- 
gates and  representatives  from  almost  every 
nation  under  heaven  th3n  assemble  beneath 
its  r<K)f.  The  language  of  every  capital  in 
Europe  is  here  spoken,  and  the  utterances  of 
far  distant  tribes  here  recognized.  The  onfce 
wild  natives  of  Asia,  Africa,  America  and  the 
South  Sea  Islands  here  meet  in  friendly  coun- 
cil, and  are  touched  and  softened  by  words  of 
welcome  in  their  native  tongue.  The  chil- 
dren of  the  world  meet  and  mingle,  and  lay 
down  their  offerings  in  a  common  cause,  and 
— glorious  result  I — mythical  ideas  of  origin 
and  superiority  are  then  forgotten,  and  nation- 
ality,  the  great  idol  of  discord  is,  happily,  for 
the  time,  hurled  from  its  desecrated  pedestal, 
and  lies  neglected  or  trampled  in  the  dust. 

The  regular  anniversary  meetings  of  Exe- 
ter Hall  are  looked  forward  to  with  great 
interest  by  the  religious  world.  Protestants 
of  all  denominations  hail  the  approach  of 
these  periods  with  the  most  agreeal)le  anticipa- 
tion. A  spirit  of  emulation  is  engendered ; 
and  each  particular  church  or  society  makes 
a  strong  endeavor  to  win  pious  fame  on  the 
great  platform  where  the  representati  ves  of  so 
many  creeds  annually  fraternize'  and  who  on 
the  occasion  tacitly  cease  doctrinal  bickerings, 
in  order  to  exhibit  to  the  skeptic  and  scoffer 
an  exemplary  assiduity  in  the  (omnion  cause. 
For  months  before  this  stated  period  the  moat 


^ 


EXETER    HALL. 


cncrprtic  oflf)rtfl  arc  niado  to  accumi^late  a 
Biini  sutRcicnit  to  corn'spond  with  the  i)reimm- 
cd  wealth  and  influence  of  each  respective 
denomination.  In  this  connection  wliat  is 
called  a  "  laiidahlc  riv^alry"  is  encouraged, 
and  graduated  honors  are  in  due  time 
awarded  on  the  credit  side  of  the  published 
accounts.  There  are  some,  alas!  who  in 
religious  as  well  as  in  secular  affairs,  cling  to 
the  idea  tliat  the  most  money  ought  to  have 
the  mopt  merit,  and  persons  most  liberal  in 
endowments  are  generally  awarded  the  high- 
est place. 

To  obtain  as  large  an  amount  as  possible, 
the  most  thorough  and  ingenious  methods, 
have  been  devised.  Sunday-school  children 
are  lectured  to  importune  for  missionary 
pence,  and  to  reserve  their  own  petty  accu- 
mulations of  the  most  humble  produce  of 
the  mint  for  the  "  missionary  box  ;"  and  8<>1- 
dom  indeed  will  either  painted  toy  or  tempt- 
ing ciindy  induce  the  juvenile  collector  to 
•withdraw  the  little  donation  from  its  place  of 
deposit.  Tlio  mone>  is  looked  nyto.:  as  be- 
longing to  the  treasury  of  the  Lord  ;  j  n*!  if 
the  infant  Protestant  mind  shonld  happen  to 
tolerate  a  little  superstition  in  this  respcsct,  no 
objection  has  yet  been  offered.  A  public  re- 
cognition of  such  services  by  children  is  high- 
ly satisfactory  to  religious  parents,  and  is  nat- 
urally found  to  be  a  powerful  stimulus  to 
entice  and  actuate  younger  disciples. 

Then,  again,  there  are  "  Young  Men's  Asso- 
ciations," and  thwein  persons  are  appointed 
to  perambulate  certain  places  and  localities 
for  help  for  the  heathen — haunts  and  purlieus 
T.  here  it  would  not  be  always  safe  and  ncjver 
proper  for  respectable  religious  females  to  be 
seen. 

Thus  the  dissipated  and  abandoned  are 
often  beaonght,  and,  strange  to  say,  are  often 
donor*^  this  great  fund.  It  may  be  that  at 
stated  periods  many  recklessly  rushing  to  sin 
and  shame  feel  a  degree  of  satisfaction  in 
being  solicited,  as  if  the  solicitation  and  the 

Sift  were  still  proof'),  though  ever  so  weak, 
lat  the  poor  dissipated  wanderer  was  not  as 
yet  disowned  by  society,  or  considenxl  as 
hopelessly  sunk  among  the  outcast  and  de- 
graded. 

Matrons  have  also  an  allotted  task.  Mature 
members  of  wealthy  mercantile  companies, 
ancient  annuitants,  gray-headed  state  iMsnsion- 
ers,  and  musty  otficials  are  sought  and 
softened  by  imjwrtunate  appeals  which  will 
ttike  no  denial ;  and  the  flinty  man,  wrapped 
up  in  freezing  dignity,  is  generally  unfolded, 
even  to  prove  to  himself  that,  mummy-like 
as  ho  may  appear  to  others,  "a  heart  still 
throbs  within  his  leathern  breast,"  and  that 
its  pulsations  are  yet  human. 

Stewards,  deacons,  lay-preachers,  and  min- 
isters have  ft  peculiar  field  of  labor,  and  are 
often  more  successful  with  wtialthy  or  v/ell-to- 
do-widows,  and  comfortable  spinsters  of  an  un- 
certain age,  than  other  persons.  The  pleading, 
however,  of  ministerf>  with  all  classes  has  a 
drawing  effect ;  but  ab  their  duties  are  too  mul- 
tifarious, their  visits  for  such  purposes  are  ne- 
cesHiirily  circumscribed.  The  potency  of  a 
minister's  influence  is  more  particularly  in  a 
general  and  pathetic  appeal  to  r  cohgregatiou. 


or  in  private  whispers  at  the  bedside  of  the 
man  who  has  walked  the  earth  for  the  last 
time,  and  who,  previous  to  settling  hid  last  ac- 
count, is  earnestly  reminded  of  his  iinal  and- 
most  important  duty  of  *'  honoring  the  Lord 
with  his  substance" — it  would  not  be  needed 
in  the  grave. 

But  by  far  the  most  invincible  and  succcs»- 
ful  collectors  arc  the  young  and  beautiful  fe- 
male members  of  the  church.  Such  ijcrsous 
are  classified  as  the  "  young  lady  collectors," 
and  they  prove  themselves  to  be  by  all  odds 
the  most  daring  and  triumphant.  In  this  re- 
spect it  has  been  asserted  that  erne  young  lady 
is  wjual  to  thirteen  and  a  half  gentiem(in ; 
and  pecuniary  results  have  justly  entitled  the 
adolescent  of  the  softer  sex  to  this  proportion- 
ate superiority.  In  collecting  tours,  the  young 
ladies  generally  go  in  pairs,  the  more  attract- 
ive and  accomplished  the  better.  As  the  duty 
is  reac'My  undertaken,  every  suitable  place  is 
visitt  with  the  most  unflinching  determina- 
tion. Shopkeepers,  olHcc-clerks.  young  busi- 
ness-men, and  men  of  fashion — the  grave  and 
the  gay,  the  great  and  the  humble,  and  ail 
classes  within  reach  that  may  with  propriety 
be  calhid  on,  are  made  to  yield  to  solicitations 
which  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  are  irresistible ; 
and  if  figures  are  facts,  the  returns  ever  prove 
that  young  lady  collectors  are  far  in  advance 
of  all  others  in  this  particular  line  of  ])ious 
usefulness.  The  rocky,  sordid  hearts  that  can 
not  be  softened  by  apostolic  prayers  or  siglu. 
siK-m  to  melt  and  bubble  up  beneath  the  mis- 
sionary ft^rvor  of  youth  anil  beauty. 

Thus  it  is,  that  by  a  v>eculiar  and  systematic 
organization  almost  every  individual  connect- 
ed with  a  church  or  religious  society,  from  the 
mere  child  to  the  man  or  woman  with  gray 
hairs,  may  be  made  an  active  agent  for  the 
collection  of  small  sems  for  missionary  or 
other  religious  purposes,  and  which  sums  in 
the  aggregate  annually  swell  to  an  immen&o 
amount ;  and  thus  it  is  that  without  ostenta- 
tation  or  an  appaix'nt  effort  the  greater  por- 
tion of  the  annual  princely  revenue  of  the 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  is  obtained 
from  the  people  by  a  mild  but  detennined  en- 
forcement of  the  "voluntary  principle.' 

Tho  orthod(«  Englishman  is  proud  of 
Ex(!ter  Hall.  In  the  rustic  church  or  great 
cathedral  ho  had  heanl  of  the  wonderful  suc- 
cess of  the  primitive  apostles,  and  had  been 
instructed  in  the  mystic  doctrines  of  Christian- 
ity, and  told  of  its  superiority  over  more  an- 
cient Pagan  creeds.  Whiit)  tho  Bible  had 
been  held  up  as  the  great  mirror  of  truth,  he 
had  bec;n  ciiution<Kl  against  various  modern 
interpretations  of  tho  "  unlearnwl,"  leading  to 
false  doctrine,  heresy,  and  schism  ;  aud  in  the 
sanctuary,  while  often  bewildered  by  contra- 
dictory tenets,  it,  led  into  amazo  of  doubt  and 
theological  speculation  by  seeming  contradic- 
tory texts,  in  Exeter  Hall  he  seldom  or  never 
heard  a  conflicting  opinion.  In  this  place,  the 
history,  tho  contests,  tho  persecution,  and  tho 
triumphs  of  Christianity  were  mapped  out  be- 
fore his  mind  in  interesting  «?citals.  There 
ho  had  hc>ard  of  tho  adventures  of  primitive 
Christians  in  their  endeavors  to  propagate  the 
"  truth  "  in  tho  midst  of  powerful  and  irap» 
rial  heathenism ;  and  had  been  told  how  au- 


t 


»    !» 


I, 


I 


EXETER    HALL. 


i: 


I- 


'h 

I 


\i 


jpist  potentates  bncamo  enraj?ocl  at  the  pious 
innovation,  and  at  tlie  disrespect  shown  to  tho 
gods  ;  liow  tho  great  Koman  empire  thunder- 
ed forth  its  denunciations  in  fierce  and  lilofxly 
persecutions  under  Nero,  Domitian,  Trajan, 
^[arcu8  Aurelius,  and  others  clothed  with  tlic 
imperial  purple,  down  to  tho  reputed  conver- 
sion of  Constantine.  Hero  he  had  heard  of 
the  fierce  contests  between  tho  rival  Ijishops 
of  tho  Eastern  and  Western,  or  Oreek  and  Ro- 
man Churches,  and  of  the  final  establishment 
of  the  "man  of  sin ;"  how  Ood's  so-called 
"vicegerent"  in  the  fullnera  of  his  ix)wcr 
crushed  with  unfeeling  heart,  all  who  dared 
to  dispute  his  spiritual  dictation  ;  how  in  the 
pride  of  his  assumed  and  terrible  preeminence, 
the  simple  minded,  unoffending,  and  defense- 
less Waldenses  and  Albigenses  were  hunted 
like  wild  bea&ts  from  their  humble  homes,  and 
mutilated  and  slaughtered  by  the  bloody 
Montfort ;  how,  more  than  a  century  later, 
the  valleys  of  Piedmont  were  again  deluged 
with  the  blood  of  these  poor  j)eople  by  the 
brutal  Oppede.  It  was  in  this  place  that  his 
eyes  were  suffused  with  tears  whfen  in  connec- 
tion with  the  foregoing  narrations,  he  first 
heard,  amid  tho  deep  silence  of  a  multitude, 
the  solemn  but  beautiful  verses  of  the  great 
Milton  : 

"Avenge,  O  Lordl  thy  slaughtered  saints  whose 

bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold. 
Even  them  who  kept  thy  faith  so  pure  of  old. 
When  all  our  fathers  worshiped  stocks  and  stones, 
Forget  not ;  in  thy  book  record  iheir  groans 
Who  were  thy  sheep  and  in  their  ancient  fold 
8laia  by  the  tiloody  Piedmontese  that  rolled 
Mother  with  infant  down  the  rocks.    Their  moans 
The  vales  redoubled  to  the  hills,  and  thoy 
To  Heaven.    Their  martyred  blood  and  ashes  sow 
O'er  all  the  Italian  fields,  where  still  doth  sway 
The  tripled  tyrant ;  that  from  these  may  grow 
A  liundred-foUl,  who  having  learned  thy  way 
Uarly  may  lly  the  Babylonian  woe." 

Then  when  some  fervid  speaker,  after  having 
recited  these  verses,  would  ylose  his  remarks 
with  an  indignant  denunciation  of  such  cruel- 
ty, the  pent-up  feeling  of  the  multitude 
would  become  liberated  and  significantly 
audible. 

In  Exeter  Hall  tho  Englishman  had  heard 
of  tho  Inquisition;  of  its  depths,  its  dun- 
geons, its  terrors,  its  cruelties,  and  its  victims. 
Hero,  too,  he  had  heard  of  the  great  massacre 
of  St.  Bartholomew,  and  had  warnings,  time 
after  time,  against  the  treachery  and  iutriguo 
and  cruelty  of  Papal  Rome.  Here  he  was 
told  of  tho  struggles  of  the  Reformation,  and 
of  its  heroes,  princely  and  reverend,  Avho 
stood  out  against  tho  imperious  mandates  of 
the  great  ecclesiastical  tyrant ;  and  as  fact 
after  fact  wrs  adduced  to  prove  that  that 
great  convu^^ion,  the  violent  upheaving  of 
an  ancient  d  aspotism,  was  designed  by  Provi- 
dence for  the  freedom  of  the  human  mind, 
he  lelt  that  Britain — liis  own  loved  land — had 
acted  no  secondary  part  ia  reducing  and 
humbling  the  towering  pretensions  of  so  ter- 
rible an  enemy. 

Many  other  religious  historical  facts  were 
there  brought  to  his  notice ;  and  although 
tho  subsequent  acts  of  many  of  tho  Protest- 
ant reformers  were,  alas!  of  a  fearful  and 
diabolical  charact«!r,  no  mention  was  ever 
made  of  that  iniquity,  nor    of  the   unholy 


secrets  of  that  more  modern  inquisition — the 
Protestant  Star  Chamber.  A  blush  of  shame 
was  spared,  and  the  fraternal  partiality  of 
Exeter  Hall  very  wisely  and  prudently  threw 
the  mantle  of  oblivion  over  all. 

These  tracings  of  a  particular  history,  first 
permanently  impressed  on  his  memory  in  such 
a  place,  and  under  peculiar  existing  circum- 
stances, associated  with  the  warm,  applause 
awarded  to  strong  and  passionate  assertions 
in  favor  of  freedom  of  speech,  liberty  of  con- 
science, liberty  of  the  press,  and  of  liberty 
itself,  and  all  identifying  his  native*country 
as  the  progenitor  of  such  ideas,  may  well  lead 
tho  impulsive  Englishman  to  revere  forever 
tho  name  of  Exeter  Hall. 

Thus  it  is  that  at  the  immense  meetings  of 
this  distinguished  forum,  that  monster  organ- 
ization, the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Soci- 
ety, the  great  evangelical  giant  of  Christen- 
dom is  again  nourished  and  recuperated ;  and 
thus  its  prodigious  arms  are  again  strength- 
ened and  stretched  out,  overshadowing  deserts, 
oceans,  islands,  and  continents,  and  only  meet- 
ing to  inclose  within  its  vast  embrace  the 
whole  unconverted  world. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  wild  March  winds  had  passed  away, 
having  spent  their  fury  over  distant  moor, 
bleak  heath,  and  through  trembling,  naked 
trees.  Broken,  pendent  branches,  and  piles  of 
drifted,  withered  leaves  in  wall  angles  and 
hedge  corners  were  remaining  proofs  of  the 
rough  season  that  had  followed  in  the  dreary 
track  of  ten  thousand  others  of  the  same  kind. 
The  distant  ocean  was  again  calm,  albeit  that 
there  might  still  remain  on  its  grand  surface 
terrible  mementoes  of  some  fearful  struggle 
between  the  daring  skill  of  impetuous  man 
and  the  sjill  more  Avild  and  impetuous  waves, 
now  again  wearied  and  slumbering  in  the  still- 
ness of  immensity.  The  earth,  too,  was  calm 
and  beautiful.  The  glorious  day-dawn  that 
was  drearaingly  stealing  from  out  of  the  night- 
shadow  looked  like  the  timid  virgin  light  of 
a  new  i)lanetary  creation;  A  sun-gleam  tipped 
the  distant  tree-tops,  now  gently  stirred  by  the 
first  breath  of  a  new  morn ;  tho  lark  in  heav- 
en and  the  song  of  the  rushing  stream  on 
earth,  were  to  tho  pausing  and  wondering 
wayfaring  man  like  whispers  from  a  long-lost 
paradise. 

As  it  was,  Hampstead  never  looked  more 
like  tho  original  garden  said  to  have  been  so 
pleasing  and  delightful  to  our  great  progeni- 
tor. Every  cottage  seemed  imbedded  in  sur- 
roundings of  q^uiet  loveliness,  as  its  outline 
became  more  tully  developed  in  the  new 
dawn  ;  and  every  object,  hill  and  vale,  tower 
and  tree,  rock  and  river,  was  adorned  in  the 
soft,  rosy  light  of  tho  young  day. 

On  a  gentle  slope,  facing  the  great,  dim  me- 
tropolis beneatli,  stood  Heath  Cottage,  an 
unobtrusive  object  in  the  picture.  It  was 
in  the  iiuddle  of  a  pleasant  garden,  around 
the  walls  of  which  wore  a  number  of  fine  old 
trees  that,  scntiuel-likc,  had  stoud  the  blast 


\. 


EXETER    HALL. 


of  over  a  hundred  winters.  The  houso  was  a 
modern  Btructure ;  there  was  nothing  stylish 
in  its  architecture ;  it  was  a  plainly  b'lilt,  com- 
fortable EDglish  hoinesteacl,  and  sufficiently 
capacious  tor  a  family  much  larjjer  than 
that  which  had  occupied  it  for  many  years. 
There  wore  shade  trees  and  neat  Iieilges  by 
the  roadside,  and  in  front  there  were  smiling; 
flower-beds  in  which  the  crocus,  hyacinth,  and 
tulip  were  already  conspicuous.  Shrubs  and 
plants  and  rose-trees  were  in  profusion,  and 
curious  little  winding  walks,  with  trim  box- 
wood borders,  invited  you  i)h'a8in;rly  onward 
to  a  8un-dia).  close  to  which  there  was  a  mini- 
ature fountain  tossing  up  its  little  jet  of 
■pray  to  welcome  the  sunbeams,  and  moisten- 
ing the  moss-covered  rock-work  rising  out  of 
the  graveled  space  before  tiie  door-steps. 

Ascending  these  steps  the  entrance  was  be- 
sieged by  flower  pots  of  various  shapes  and 
sizes ;  some  perched  on  rustic  stands,  and  look- 
ing as  if  determined  to  pop  in  from  the  eleva- 
tion through  the  side  lights,  and  storm  the 
chattering  and  defiant  bird  cages  which  flank- 
ifd  the  sun-lit  ]>a^sage.  Ambitious  young 
vinos  were  curiously  peering  through  the 
intricate  traceries  around  the  b.iy  windows  nt 
(Mich  side  of  the  door,  and  pendent  stems  of 
ivy  alternately  tapped  at  the  dormer  panes  that 
looKed  out  from  the  steep  roof. 

As  you  entered  Heath  Cottage,  the  hall  was 
ornamented,  embellished,  or  incumberetl  with 
quaint  and  incongruous  articles.  Besides  cages 
and  canaries,  there  were  pictures  of  London 
in  the  olden  time,  engravings  of  the  Hags 
and  gods  of  all  nations;  the  scene  of  an 
"  Auto  da  fe ;"  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Barthol- 
omew ;  of  a  persecution  of  Jews  by  Chris- 
tians, and  of  Quakers  by  Puritans ;  there 
were  pieces  of  armor,  war  clubs  from  the 
Sandwich  Islands,  a  boomerang  from  Austra- 
lia, an  idol  from  Japan,  relics  from  the  wreck 
of  the  Armada,  and  a  fcAv  of  the  smaller  instru- 
ments of  torture  from  the  British  Star  Cham- 
ber and  Spanish  Inquisition.  Many  of  these 
strange  things  were  suggestive  of  ideas  not 
at  all  pleasing  or  honorable  to  humanity,  nor 
creditable  to  the  religious  toleration  of  a  for- 
mer period ;  and  here  now  were  hung,  as 
more  curiosities,  some  of  those  terrible  aids  to 
faith  which  could  afford  to  the  student  posi- 
tive illustrations  of  historic  truth.  There 
were  also  a  few  specimens  af  mechanical  or 
engineering  skill,  such  as  the  models  of  a 
sljip,  a  bridge— the  whole  giving  the  place 
a  museum-like  appearance. 

The  first  door  to  the  right  led  to  a  nent,  well- 
furnished  parlor ;  not  one  of  the  stately  freez- 
ing looking  places  where  chairs  and  tables 
and  mirrors  and  marble  are  muffled  up  in 
musty  dignity,  only  to  be  exposed  and  made 
cheerful  looking  on  great  occasions.  It  was 
an  apartment  for  home  use,  and  not  alone  for 
the  reception  of  occasional  visitors.  There 
was  no  pretense  about  the  place  ;  it  was  what 
it  looked — a  cottage  parlor,  and  eveiy  thing 
in  it  was  made  subservient  to  the  happiness 
of  home.  As  a  proof  of  this,  many  pass- 
ing Heath  Cottage  might  be  sefin  treading 
with  slower  pace  in  order  to  hear  the  fine 
tones  of  the  piano  skillfully  brought  out ;  or 
oftener  delayed  to  listen  to  soft  voices  mingled 


in  some  beautiful  duo,  and  accompanied  by 
that  instrument.  IndiM>d,  many  ardent  lovers 
of  music  had  been  heard  to  lemark  that  it 
was  ditficuh  at  times  to  keep  from  loitering 
near  the  cottage,  or  to  pass  it  by  and  leave  so 
much  liarmony  behind  you.  Opposite  the 
parlor  was  a  large  apartment  called  the 
family  room,  from  which  you  entered  a  small 
but  well  stocked  library,  connected  witli 
which  was  a  little  room  that  looked  out  on  a 
patch  of  garden,  and  was  well  adapted  for 
writing  or  quiet  study. 

Behind  tlie  dwelling,  there  was  a  small 
orchard  and  a  summer-house  covf^ed  with 
grape  vines  ;  and  a  space  of  greensward  for 
l)lay-ground,  along  which  you  passed  to  the 
shedb  and  stable.  Taking  it  all  in  all.  Heath 
Cottage  was  just  such  a  place  as  a  person  with 
moderate  means  and  limited  desires  might 
find  to  be  a  pleasant  retreat  from  ambitious 
cares  or  the  envy  of  the  aspiring.  Such  it 
had  been  for  many  years  to  its  proprietor, 
Martin  Manners,  who  now,  on  this  fair,  first 
morning  of  April,  was  looking  down  with 
beami/ig  face  from  one  of  the  dormer  windows 
into  the  garden. 

"  What !  Merry  Pop,  down  before  me  ?  Oh  I 
I  see ;  you  were  determined  to  win,  and  I 
suppose  you  got  up  before  day." 

'Indeed  I  did  not.  Pa;  I  bet  that  I  would 
be  down  before  you  on  the  first  of  April,  and 
here  I  am,  ready  for  the  wager." 

"  Well,  here  it  is,"  and  out  flew  a  pair  of 
lavender  gloves  from  the  window,  falling  at 
the  feet  of  Mary  Manners. 

"  Down,  Flounce,  down,  sir !"  but  Flounce 
would  not  stay.  Away  he  gamboled  with 
the  gloves  in  his  mouth,  over  flower-beds  and 
bushes,  until  met  at  a  corner  by  a  delicate 
looking  boy,  Mary's  brother,  who  grasped 
Flounce  by  the  neck  and  rescued  the 
gloves. 

"  Pop,"  said  Mr.  M&nnors,  "  Flounce  knows 
this  is  the  first  of  April,  and  wants  to  make 
an  April  fool  of  you." 

"  Pa,  indeed  you  have  pampered  that  saucy 
dog  too  much ;  but  neither  he  nor  you  shall 
make  a  fool  of  me  today,"  replied  the  ex- 
cited girl,  looking  up  at  the  window  through 
her  beautiful  brown,  shining  curls. 

"  Oh !  of  course  not.  You're  too  wist\  Pop, 
to  be  caught  witli  chaff— not  you."  Mr. 
Manners  then,  apparently  surprised,  looked  for 
a  moment  at  some  object  in  front  of  the  house, 
and  hastily  cried,  "  Look,  Will,  look,  Mary ! 
That  surely  is  the  identical  April  fool,  if  there 
ever  was  one,  standing  at  the  garden  gate. 
Mary  and  her  brother  looked  at  once  in  thai 
direction,  but  as  the  intervening  trees  prevent- 
ed any  object  from  being  clearly  seen,  away 
Mary  started,  followed  by  her  brother ;  there 
was  a  race  for  the  gate,  then  there  was  a  dead 
halt,  then  a  pause  of  doubt,  and  then  a  shout 
of  laughter  from  Mr.  Manners ;  for  instead  of 
there  being  but  one  April  fool  at  the  gate  there 
were  actually  tvco. 

"W^ell,  Martin,"  pettishly  observed  Mrs. 
Manners,  who  had  by  this  time  got  to  the  win- 
dow, "  how  silly  !  What  an  example  of  decep- 
tion to  show  the  children !  What  value  can 
they  place  on  your  word  ?  You  should  be  the 
very  last  to  deceive  them  with  such  an  old 


9 


EXETER    HALL. 


%4 


wife's  fable,  or  encouraji^e  tliera  to  think  of  such 
stupid  nonsenHO." 

"Nonsense  did  you  say,  Emma?  Well,  if 
every  fable  tuat  is  taught  for  truth  in  this  wise 
and  sanctimonious  ago,  and  believed  in  by  old- 
er children,  were  as  harmless,  tliero  would  be 
far  more  peace  and  good-will  among  men 
and  women  too— ay,  far  more  happiness.  But 
I  must  go  down  to  tlie  garden.  You  may  tell 
them  to  try  and  bo  serious.  I  will  bid  them 
laugh  and  enjoy  their  cheerful  impulses;  I 
know  which  will  make  them  moat  happy  in 
the  long  run,  nt  least  in  this  world." 

In  another  minute  Martin  Mannors  stood 
close  to  the  little  fountain ;  his  cheery  voice 
rang  through  the  garden  like  music,  and 
again  he  laughed  aloud  at  the  ruse  he  had  so 
successfully  practiced.  Mary  and  her  brother 
had  returned,  and  once  more  the  laugh  was 
general.  Flounce,  too,  was  springing  about, 
giving  repeated  barks  of  approbation  as  if  he 
knew  all  almat  it,  and  was  delighted  at  the 
performance. 

There  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  heartfelt  plea- 
sure of  the  whole  party,  and  ho  must  have 
been  a  cynic  indeed  who  could  liave  looked 
upon  the  happy  faces  of  that  group  and  assert 
that  the  cause  of  so  much  pleasure  was  a  sin. 

Even  Mrs.  Mannocs,  wlio  bow  witnessed  their 
joyful  meeting,  and  who  had  but  just  lectured 
Iter  husband  upon  his  indiscretion,  felt  the 
influence  of  their  cheerful  emotions ;  and,  to 
appear  consistent,  she  had  to  turn  away  quick- 
ly from  the  window  to  hide  from  father  and 
chidren  the  smile  that  was  then  shining  on 
her  own  face. 

Martin  Mannors,  the  proprietor  of  Heath 
Cottaj^e,  was  j  ust  past  the  middle  age  of  life;, 
but  healthy,  hearty,  and  joyous.  His  actual 
years  miglit  number  fifty-seven,  yet  at  first 
view  ho  looked  scarcely  beyond  forty.  He 
was  of  medium  height,  squarely  built,  vigor- 
ous, and  active  ;  he  liad  a  mild  gray  eye,  and 
a  most  benevolent  expression  of  countenance. 
"  Time  had  not  thinned  his  flowing  hair," 
neither  had  it  as  yet  8carc<ily  altered  its  color. 
A  few  white-hairs,  like  intruders,  might  have 
been  discovered  screening  themselves  among 
his  brown  locks  ;  but  only  a  few,  the  scantiest 
number  of  the  harbingers  of  the  still  far-off 
winter.  He  wore  a  nuiuly  beard,  as  nature 
intended  ;  and  if  ho  had  reached  the  summit 
of  life's  hill,  he  now  trod  the  declining  waj' 
as  cheerfully  and  contentedly  as  he  had  made 
the  ascent. 

He  was  a  person  not  easily  disconcerted  or 
annoyed  about  any  thing.  If  an  evil  befell 
him,  his  philosophy  came  to  the  rescue,  and  he 
would  say,  "  It  might  have  been  -worse."  Al- 
though comparatively  indifterent  about  him- 
self, he  felt  most  acutely  for  the  wants  or 
afflictions  of  others ;  these,  he  would  say,  were 
the  particular  thorns  that  made  his  life  most 
unhappy ;  and  he  always  asserted  that  poverty 
in  the  abstract  was  the  certain  result  of  social 
injustice ;  and  that  crime,  to  a  great  extent, 
was  the  consequence.  He  was  fortunate,  how- 
ever, in  being  placed  beyond  the  contingencies 
of  want ;  as  the  recipient  of  a  liberal  annuity, 
he  was  possessed  of  sufficient  means  to  secure, 
for  himself  and  those  depending  on  him  a 
great  share  of  the  good  tlunga  of  this  life ; 


besides,  he  had  a  vested  interest  in  Heath  Cot- 
tage, and  being  a  person  careful  and  prudent 
in  every  expenditure,  lie  was  not  at  uU  likely 
to  suffer  from  pecuniary  difficulties.  Having 
had  the  benefit  of  a  good  education,  he  w.vs 
still  more  fortunate.  He  was  a  great  reader, 
and  devoured  the  contents  of  books  on  almost 
every  ordinary  subject  with  the  greatest  arid- 
ity. For  him  one  side  of  a  question  was 
never  sufficient ;  each  proposition  or  idea  was 
mentally  handled  and  scrutinized,  and  viewed 
at  every  point  before  he  came  to  a  decision  ; 
and  every  assertion,  or  opinion,  ©r  theory,  or 
doctrine,  ;io  matter  how  trivial  or  profound, 
how  now  or  how  old,  how  popular  or  con- 
demned, had  to  undergo  its  ordeal  of  investi- 
gation in  his  mind  before  he  either  accepted 
or  rejected  it  as  truth  or  error.  For  truth  ho 
seemed  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice;  and 
the  boldness  of  his  statements  relative  to 
many  of  our  most  venerable  and  cherished 
ideas  often  startled  the  timid  doubter,  and 
many  times  engendered  in  the  minds  of  some 
stiff-necked  worshippers  of  traditionary  or 
hereditary  opinions  a  feeling  of  haughty 
scorn  or  of  actual  enmity. 

Apart  from  more  abstruse  subjects  he  had 
a  fine  appreciation  of  music,  painting,  and 
poetry ;  in  fact,  he  readily  cultivate  I  every 
thing  most  refined  and  intellectual  in  art  or 
science,  and  his  judgment  in  these  matters 
was  considered  sound  and  conclusive.  Such 
was  Martin  Mannors ;  kind,  humane,  and  just ; 
a  man  of  cwaprehensive  mind  and  boldness  of 
though!^  Ae  who  never  sought  to  obtrude 
his  opidhM^^udely,  but  who,  singly  and  alone, 
was  everWtuiy  to  defend  them  before  a  thou- 
sand opponents.  Far  and  around  he  was 
known  and  respected ;  he  was  regarded  by  the 
poor  and  unfortunate  as  a  true,  sympathizsing 
friend,  and  his  name  was  a  passport  to  the 
hearts  of  toiling  men.  But  though  he  was 
idolized  a^^qme,  and  loved  by  many,  being 
intellectual^^  advance,  and  a  ''  skeptic"  in 
theology,  as  l^onsequence,  he  too  had  ma- 
ligners  and  enemies. 

Mrs.  Mannors  was,  in  many  respects,  as  un- 
like her  husband  as  it  was  possible  to  ima- 
gine. She  was  comely  in  person  and  kind  in 
disposition.  She  loved  her  husband  and  chil- 
dren and  home ;  and  she  had  the  reputation 
of  being  generous  to  the  deserving,  and  chari- 
table to  the  poor,  and  was  justly  regarded  as 
a  very  exemplary  person  in  most  things. 
But  intellectually  she  fell  far  beliind  ;  it  was  a 
trouble  for  her  to  think.  Ready-made  ideas, 
particularly  if  the  emanations  of  some  reve- 
rend Spurgeon  or  popular  Boanerges  of  the 
church  militant,  were  by  her  readily  adopted 
and  held  sacred.  She  had  a  religious  mania; 
and  the  sanctuary  was  her  gate  to  heaven, 
and  the  homo  of  her  strongest  affections. 
Reason,  she  asserted,  had  particular  and  c'r- 
cumscribod  limits,  and  fmth  was  the  great 
point  upon  which  her  fondest  hopes  centred 
and  turned. 

From  her  earlier  years  she  had  been  train- 
ed to  regard  the  world  ub  a  vale  of  tears,  and 
to  consider  earthly  things  as  of  little  con- 
sequence, and  every  moment  of  time  spent 
on  earth  as  scarcely  sufficient  to  secure  the 
promised  enjoyments  of  a  futurd'State.    Peri- 


8 


EXETER    HALL. 


H! 


odically,  bowever,  sho  was  a  busy  bustling 
woman  in  ordinarj  affaire,  but  generally  an 
enthusiast  in  religion ;  so  much  so,  that  shu 
very  often  soeraed  to  forget  or  neglect  some 
of  the  duties  of  life,  and  to  resign  many  of 
the  pleasures  of  earth  for  the  purpose  of  so- 
curing  the  inconceivable  happiness  of  hea- 
ven. 

To  this  end  sho  became  a  strict  Methodist ; 
she  joined  the  church,  attended  class-meet- 
ings ■  sho  would  quote  and  lecture  and  pray 
in  church  and  at  home,  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  and  found  frequent  opportunities  to 
beseech  some  ungodly  friend  or  acquaintance 
"  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come."  She  was  a 
collector  of  funds  for  churches,  missionaries, 
Bibles,  tracts,  and  tea-meetings ;  and  next  to 
herself  she  cousidered  her  husband  as  the 
"chief  of  sinnere,"  and  running  blindly  to  his 
own  destruction.  She  had  cautioned  and  ad- 
monished him  time  after  time,  but,  alas !  so 
far  without  effect ;  ho  could  not  perceive  his 
danger ;  on  the  contrary,  he  told  her  he  was 
happy  enough,  he  knew  nothing  of  the  sin- 
fulness of  sin,  and  often  after  she  had  dis- 
coursed to  him  in  her  most  serious  and  tear- 
ful mood,  he  would  laugh  at  the  terrors  wluch 
she  had  portrayed  for  his  edification. 

As  a  matter  of  duty  sho  tried  to  impress  on 
the  minds  of  her  children  the  value  of  relig- 
ion and  the  worthlessness  of  the  world.  Be- 
sides leading  them  to  the  sanctuary,  she  had 
itheir  memory  crowded  with  catechetical  ques- 
tions and  answers,  and  with  a  multitude  of 
ttexts  and  pious  verses.  Sho  had  done  Lor 
duty  in  this  respect,  and  there  was  no  inter- 
ference on  the  part  of  her  husband ;  but,  alas ! 
all  her  well  meant  efforts  were  undesignedly 
counteracted. 

Mary  Manners,  now  in  her  seventeenth  year, 
was,  lilie  her  father,  naturally  hopeful  and  joy- 
ous. She  was  of  medium  size,  and  had  beau- 
tiful brown  hair  that  hung  ia  trapses  around 
her  graceful  neck.  Her  eye  vu»$.  clear  mild 
blue,  and  her  face  singularly  pleasing  and  at- 
tractive. Her  education  had  not  been  neglect- 
ed, and  her  mind  was  stored  with  a  fair  sliarc 
of  general  knowledge.  She  had  a  fine  voice, 
and  could  sing  and  play  with  the  most  ex- 
quisite taste  and  feeling.  Her  manner  was 
quite  unaffected;  and  now,  as  sho  was  just 
budding  into  womanhood,  her  maidenly  at- 
tractions were  increased  by  a  most  affectionate 
and  confiding  disposition,  and  she  looked  and 
spoke  and  acted  with  an  honest  boldness  that 
made  her  almost  irresistible.  She  was  an  es- 
pecial favorite  with  her  father,  and  was  like 
him  in  thought  and  disposition,  and  she  con- 
sidered him  unequaled.  Her  brother  Wil- 
liam, her  junior  by  about  four  years,  was  con- 
stitutionally delicate.  He  was  a  slight,  frail 
boy,  with  a  feminine  cast  of  countenance. 
His  face  was  handsome,  yet  without  tlie  force 
of  expression,  which  made  the  contrast  be- 
tween him  and  his  sister  so  great.  In  man- 
ner he  was  mild  and  affectionate,  and  was  the 
idol  of  his  mother,  who  evinced  the  greatest 
anxiety  on  account  of  his  health.  Altogether 
he  was  a  tender  plant,  which  requ'^ed  particu- 
lar care. 

Mary    and    he  were  almost    inseparable. 
"When  he  could  not  attend  school,  she  wa,s  not 


only  his  companion  but  his  preceptress ;  and 
under  hor  tender  tuition  he  often  made  greater 
progress  tlian  by  the  direction  of  the  best  mas- 
ter. His  father  was  most  indulgent ;  and  when 
the  spring  days  grew  warm  and  fine,  ho  and 
Mary  and  William,  and  always,  Flounce  would 
ramble  for  miles  away  over  sunny  hills  and 
through  green  meadows ;  and,  when  tired, 
would  sit  by  some  cUiar  stream  to  hear  its 
murmure  as  it  wandered  along  on  its  way 
through  shadow  and  sunshine.  Ah  me !  these 
were  pleasant  rambles,  pleasant  to  be  remem- 
bered in  long,  long  after  years,  and  to  bo 
hung  like  some  fair  picture  in  the  memory. 

As  for  Mr.  Mannors,  ho  had  not  for  many 
years  attended  a  place  of  worehip.  He  had 
made  a  stud/  of  theology ;  and,  having  pierced 
its  very  depths,  seemed  to  have  discovered 
something  unsightly  and  then  to  have  reject- 
ed its  principles  forever.  Mrs.  Mannors  there- 
fore felt  it  the  greater  necessity  to  be  punctual 
heiself,  and  a  stronger  adherent  to  the  faith ; 
but  it  was  not  always  that  she  could  st!cure 
the  attendance  of  her  children.  Mary,  as  if 
by  intuition,  seemed  able  to  comprehend  the 
motive  which  too  often  actuated  others.  In 
her  own  quiet  way  sho  was  a  close  observer, 
and  she  used  to  remark  that  a  hundred  at- 
tended church  as  a  fashionable  pastime  for 
every  one  tliat  went  to  pray.  Slie,  like  her 
father,  did  not  object  to  have  her  acts  and  mo- 
tives fully  understood.  She  did  not  care  to  be 
the  slave  of  a  popular  mania,  or  to  follpw  in 
the  footsteps  of  a  gayly  dressed  hypocritical 
multitude  as  a  matter  of  policy ;  neither  did 
she  heed  the  censure  of  the  self-righteous  or 
the  uncharitable  insinuations  of  church-going 
adherents.  When  she  bowed  her  head,  it  was 
from  the  impulse  of  the  heart ;  and  often  when 
she  had  been  obliged  to  conform  to  the  pro- 
vailing  mode  of  frivolous  worship,  reason 
gave  its  silent  rebuke,  and  then  she  would 
wish  to  be  with  loved  ones  at  home ;  or  away, 
wandering  through  green  lanes  or  on  plea- 
sant mossy  banks,  or  by  some  gentle  stream, 
clear  and  pure  as  her  own  thoughts. 

On  bright  Sabbath  mornings,  if  William 
pleaded  indisposition,  another  ramble  was 
sure  to  be  the  remedy  ;  this  was  always  sug- 
gested in  preference  to  a  drive — confinement 
in  church  being  urged  as  injurious — and 
there  surely  could  be  no  impropriety  in  steal- 
ing quietly  away  to  the  pure  air  on  the  hills. 
On  such  occasions  it  was  useless  for  poor  Mrs. 
Mannors  to  oppose.  She  might  and  she  did  of- 
ten murmur  her  disapprobation  that  the  Sab- 
bath services  should  be  neglected ;  but  her 
kind  motherly  feelings  could  relax  religious 
discipline,  and  many  times  as  she  gave  her  re- 
luctant consent,  she  would  wistfully  follow 
them  ^vith  her  eyes,  as  hand  in  hand  they 
took  their  departure. 

Mrs.  Mannors  had,  however,  one  great  com- 
fort in  the  religious  companionship  of  an  old 
and  faithful  maid  servant  named  Hannah ;  a 
creature  fimple  minded,  guileless,  and  confid- 
ing. Hannah  had  read  and  re-read  the  Bible, 
and  ventured  to  profess  that  she  imderstood  it ; 
and  alhough  there  were  texts  and  passages  in 
that  book  with  regard  to  which  she  could  form 
no  intelligent  or  satisfactory  conclusion,  yet, 
with  her  mistress,  she  would  boldly  assert 


% 

i 


\i 


EXETER    HALL. 


til 


that  tho  wholo  was  plain  nn(i  cosily  nnder- 
Btood,  and  that  th«i  "'  wayfaring  man.thoujrli  a 
fool,  neod  not  iTr  therein."  She,  too,  had  read 
with  poHitive  deliglit  tho  Pilgrim's  ProgrenH. 
That  Hiniilitudo,  and  the  Btory  of  the  trials 
and  temptations  of  poor  Christian,  had  for 
her  a  special  attraction.  Slie  generally  kept 
this  prized  little  volume  within  reach ;  it 
seenietl  to  he  her  chief  study,  and  were  she 
asked  to  really  chooHe  between  the  Bible  and 
John  Banyan's  PUf/riin,  in  her  heart  of  hearts 
Bhe  would  ciioose  tho  latter. 

Hannah  almost  worshiped  her  mistress; 
she  was  her  id(;al  of  perfection.  She  wonder- 
ed at  her  jiatience  and  long-suHering ;  ehe 
wondered  at  the  faith  that  could  still  bear  her 
up  and  lead  her  to  hope  for  tho  conversion  of 
her  husband  and  the  rescue  of  her  dear  chil- 
dren. As  for  Mr.  Manners,  she  considered 
him  a  fit  subject  for  the  united  prayers  of 
God's  peoplt!.  He  was,  however,  to  her  a  kind 
friend  and  master,  and  in  all  other  things  ex- 
cept his  duty  to  Ciod  a  fair  and  worthy  exam- 
ple to  men.  But  in  his  present  state  ho  was 
a  "  barren  fig-tree,"  iinregenerate,  and  under 
tho  curse  of  the  law,  as  she  believed  that 
every  worshiper  of  our  benighted  reason 
must  be. 

Maid  and  mistress  were,  however,  toward 
each  other  what  tho  Scripture  says  "  iron  is  to 
iron."  In  fact  it  might  be  said  that  they  had 
their  own  '.vay  in  matters  secular  as  well  as  rc- 
ligous.  They  alone  consulted  about  or  regula- 
ted household  affairs,  as  well  as  planned  relig- 
ious tea-meetings  or  donation  parties.  Tliey 
concerted  plans  respecting  missions  or  Mag- 
dalenes,  and  to  bring  the  "  word"  to  her  very 
hearth-stone,  at  the  suggestion  of  Hannah 
Mrs.  Mannors  had  decided  that  her  house 
should  be  the  head  quarters  for  the  next  ju- 
nior preacher  appointed  to  the  Hampstead  cir- 
cuit. This  suggestion  was  looked  upon  as 
an  interposition  in  answer  to  prayer ;  for, 
thought  Mrs.  Mannors,  "  as  neither  my  prayers 
nor  any  thing  I  can  say  seem  to  have  any  ef- 
fect uiK)n  my  husband,  perhaps  the  Lord  might 
reach  his  heart  through  the  lips  of  one  of  his 
chosen  servants." 

It  therefore  might  be  said  that  Mrs.  Man- 
nors was  religiously  afflicted.  Slie  morbidly 
fancied  that  the  love  of  her  children,  the 
many  comforts  of  home,  the  bright  sunshine, 
the  song  of  birds  or  the  odor  of  flowers, 
were  like  snares  ready  to  draw  her  aside  from 
the  narrow  and  thorny  way  in  which  she  fan- 
cied a  Christian  should  travel.  Yet  as  a  mor- 
tal she  felt  the  "  unholy  attraction"  of  these 
things  ;  and  in  the  contest  between  her  human 
fecling.s  and  her  faith,  she  had  often  to  bewail 
the  cijldneps  of  her  spiritual  love,  and  the  fligh- 
ty, tiicktiring  light  of  her  endurance.  This 
condition  was  often  aggravated  by  tho  follow- 
ing favorite  texts  :  "  He  that  loveth  father 
or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of  me, 
and  he  that  loveth  sou  or  daughter  more 
than  mo  is  not  worthy  of  me."  Matt.  10 :  37. 
"If  any  man  come  to  me  and  hate  not  his  fath- 
er and  mother,  and  wife  and  children,  and 
brothers  and  sisters,  yea  his  own  life  also,  he 
can  not  bo  my  disciple."  Luke  14  :  26.  These 
texts  and  others  of  similar  import  were  the 
cause  of  sure  trials  to  Mrs.  Mannors.    There 


was  often  and  often,  even  when  it  was  least 
exiKJCted,  a  sullen  strife  between  the  teachings 
of  tlie  word  and  thct  impulses  of  her  nature, 
and  it  led  her  tlirough  much  tribulaticm.  But 
did  not  the  saints  glory  in  tribulations  V  Hero 
was  comfort.  Alas !  alas !  how  little  did  she  yet 
know  of  afflictions.  If  "  tribulation  worketh 
patience,"  what  comfort  would  it  bring  to  hef 
were  sho  to  lose  her  gentle,  delicate  son! 
Dreadful  thought  I  Or  her  fair,  joyous  daugh- 
ter? and  oh — sorrow  of  sorrows — were  she 
called  upon  to  part  forever  with  her  dear  hus- 
band, even  though  the  spirit  of  God  had  strick- 
en the  scales  from  his  eyes  and  changed  his 
heart ;  even  though  he  were  snatched  like  a 
brand  from  tho  burning,  or  raised  forever 
from  out  of  the  "  horrible  pit  and  miry  clay !" 
What  would  this  avail  her  in  that  hour  of 
dread  tribulation,  were  she  left  to  behold 
those  dear  eyes  closed  forever  in  death,  and 
to  know  with  terrible  certainty  that  the  pul- 
sations of  that  tender,  loving  heart  had  for- 
ever ceased  ?  Even  now  the  very  thought  of 
these  tribulations  was  fearful — nature  had 
again  its  triumph — and  as  a  woman,  wife,  and 
mother  Mrs,  Mannors  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands  and  wept. 

Fortified  as  she  was  with  numerous  com- 
forting passages  from  tho  Bible,  yet  the 
thought  of  such  possible  affliction  was  almost 
overwhelming.  In  vain  had  she  prayed  for 
strength.  The  thought  of  such  a  calamity 
would  recur  again  and  again,  leaving  her 
greatly  depressed ;  and  now,  on  this  fair  April 
morning  her  mind  was  thus  clouded.  Her 
husband  had  left  her  but  a  short  time ;  she 
looked  from  her  chamber  upon  the  bright  sky 
and  pleasant  earth,  aud  father  and  daughter 
and  son  were  still  in  the  garden.  Their  laugh- 
ter had  ceased,  and  the  traditionary  April  fool 
was  again  forgotten.  They  stood  silently 
hand  in  hand  in  the  soft  fresh  radiance  of  the 
spring  morning,  looking  intently  at  some  dis- 
tant oijject.  Sove  the  hum  of  tlie  bee,  or  the 
song  of  a  bird,  there  was  almost  perfect  still- 
ness ;  even  Flounce  with  drooping  head  dozed 
quietly  behind,  as  if  spell-bound. 

The  view  from  the  dormer  window  of  Mrs. 
Manner's  apartment  was  very  fine  London 
and  its  churclies,  its  steeples,  and  its  thousands 
of  habitations  were  seen  in  the  mazy  distance, 
together  with  the  dim  outlines  of  the  Surrey 
hills,  and  the  silver  Thames  threading  and 
glittering  on  its  winding  way  to  the  ocean. 
Now,  indeed,  there  was  a  change.  A  cloud  or 
pall  of  smoke  which  had  settled  during  the 
preceding  night  was  completely  spread  over 
the  vast  city  beneath,  hiding  the  distant  hills 
and  burying  the  highest  towers  and  steeples. 
Like  (Jomorrali,  the  whole  city  seemed  to  have 
been  blotted  out  from  the  face  of  the  earth  ; 
but  there  was  one  object  yet  visible  and  at- 
tractive. The  morning  sun  had  just  risen 
over  tho  lost  city,  and  had  spread  its  beams  far 
and  wide  over  its  murky  shroud.  The  great 
gilt  cross  on  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  alone  tow- 
ered up  to  the  sunlight,  flashing  and  glittering 
in  tho  patii  of  clear  sky  around  it.  As  it  thus 
appeared,  it  was  a  peculiar  object  of  beauty  to 
the  little  group  of  spectators  in  the  garden  ; 
but  to  Mrs.  Mannors  it  was  as  a  vision,  working 
on  her  feelings  of  awe  and  veneration.    The 


10 


EXETER   HALL. 


I 


bright  crops  was  then  to  her  like  some  apostol-  j 
ic  representfttion,  or  like  another  Abraham 
with  outstretched  arms  silently  pleading,  "yet  | 
again,"  for  the  doomed  city  nd  its  denounced 
inhabitants. 


CHAPTER  III. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  Rpv.  John  Wes- 
ley, the  celebrated  founder  of  that  popular  sys- 
tem of  religion  called  "  Methodism,"  was  a 
man  of  the  most  indomitable  perseverance. 
No  person  could  have  been  better  fitted  for  the 
task  which  he  had  i  ertaken — the  reform  of 
the  Established  Chuicu. 

What  Luther  was  to  Catholicity,  John  Wes- 
ley was  in  a  great  measure  to  Protestantism ; 
and  the  little  offshoot  which  he  unostentatious- 
ly planted  in  Britain  has  already  s^  ead  its 
branches  nearly  over  the  whole  earth. 

He  was  eminently  a  man  for  tho  time.  The 
IKJtentates  of  the  national  church,  surfeited 
in  luxury  and  indulgence,  were  too  much  ab- 
sorbed in  courtly  adulation,  or  too  much  en- 
gaged in  political  intrigue,  to  pay  any  great 
attention  to  the  common  pastors,  and  little 
indeed  to  the  common  people.  The  grandees 
of  the  Establishment  had  then,  as  tliey  have 
now,  their  parliamentary  authority  for  eccle- 
siastical usurpation,  and  for  their  lauded  and 
pecuniary  riglits  independent  of  the  clamors 
of  the  toiling  multitude.  The  ohurch  was  the 
pillar  of  state,  and  the  state  wa  j  the  support  of 
the  church ;  and  on  theg^  props  rested,  and 
perhaps  still  rests,  the  grand  fabric  of  the 
British  Constitution. 

Wlif-t  cared  the  "Lords  spiritual"  for  the 
murmurs  of  the  dissatisfied  populace  ?  They, 
the  regal  parasites,  never  sympathized  with 
the  discontented.  What  cared  the  titled  and 
wealthy  dignitaries  and  beneficiaries  of  the 
English  "  church  militant"  for  the  bodies  or 
souls  of  their  raeniaj  flock  ?  The  cloi  ;nants  to 
apostolical  succession  seemed  to  satisfy  their 
conscience  by  the  rigid  performance  of  one 
particular  duty — the  inculcation  of  tlie  texts — 
"  Fear  God ;  honor  the  king ;"  "  Obey  them 
that  have  rule  over  you,  and  submit  your- 
selves ;"  and  if  any  farther  exercise  was 
required  it  was  concentrated  in  one  grand 
effort — to  take  care  of  themselves. 

John  Wesley,  .though  a  humble  and  sub- 
missive minister  of  the  Establishment,  antl  one 
who  always  coi;tended  for  its  superiority,  was 
a  man  of  kindly  feeling,  possessing  a  deep 
sympathy  for  the  large  number  of  neglected 
people,  members  of  the  church ;  and  he  be- 
wailed the  8j)iritual  destitution  of  the  whole 
nation.  His  candid  suggestions  to  his  supe- 
riors were  rejected  with  pompous  and  official 
disdain  ;  and  though  he  was  grieved  to  take 
one  step  in  advance  of  those  whose  duty  it 
was  to  lead,  yet  he  took  that  step,  and  did 
what  he  considered  requisite  to  mature  a  good 
project,  and  with  what  success  the  Methodism 
of  the  present  day  can  fully  attest.  He  start- 
ed almost  alone,  and  with  but  one  greatobject 
in  view — the  s]iiritual  benefit  of  his  fellow- 
men  ;  and  if  it  cuu  bo  said  that  his  efforts  in 
this  respect  were  n.isdirected,  it  must  also  be 


said  that  no  man  was  ever  more  truly  honest 
and  sincere.  His  self-denial  was  wonderful, 
and  his  labors  were  great ;  and  were  he  to 
recount  his  struggles  and  trials,  he  might 
with  an  apostle  have  truly  said :  "  In  journey- 
ings  often,  in  perils  of  waters,  in  perils  of  rob- 
bers, in  perils  of  mine  own  countrymen,  in 
perils  by  the  heathen,  in  perils  in  the  city,  in 
perils  in  tlie  wilderness,  in  perils  in  the  sea,  in 
perils  among  false  brethren;  In  weariness 
and  painfulness,  in  watchings  often,  in  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  in  fastings  often,  in  cold  and 
nakedness."  Sucli  a  spirit  was  destined  to 
overcome  all  opposition,  and  his  triumph  was 
in  a  great  measure  complete. 

Among  otljer  peculiarities,  it  was  the  habit 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wesley  to  record  in  a  journal 
every  circumstance  of  any  note  that  took 
place  during  the  day ;  this  he  continued  to  do 
for  many  years.  In  his  numerous  journeyings 
by  land  and  sea,  he  made  entries  respecting 
the  state  of  his  mind,  and  of  his  trials,  temp- 
tations, conversations,  correspondence,  and 
reading.  But  there  were  other  entries  which 
were  more  particularly  dwelt  upon,  such  as 
strange  mental  impressions,  premonitions, 
interpositions,  or  any  event  which  might  un- 
der the  influence  of  enthusiasm,  or  in  the 
light  of  his  reputed  credulity,  be  construed 
into  a  special  act  of  Providence. 

Nearly  all  through  his  jonrnals  many  en- 
tries of  this  kind  are  recorded,  and  many  in- 
deed giving  minute  details  entering  deeply 
into  the  S'^pernatural  or  spiritual.  Some  of 
these  relations  are  strangely  curious  and 
interesting,  and  to  this  day  "  Wesley's  Jour- 
nals" occupy  a  prominent  place  in  the  library, 
or  on  the  bookshelf  of  every  studious  Method- 
ist. 

Following  the  practice  of  their  pious  foun- 
der, it  is  common  among  members  of  the  Wes- 
leyan  societies  to  keep  similar  journals.  The 
preachers  of  the  primitive  body,  for  many 
years  after  the  decease  of  Mr.  Wesley,  made  it 
a  point  of  duty  to  erect  these  spiritual  memo- 
rials, and  the  duty  was  looked  on  by  many  as 
highly  beneficial,  and  almost  considered  a 
special  "  means  of  grace ;"  and  often  in  the  • 
declining  yysrs  of  life,  the  qiiiet  perusal  r ' 
those  records  would  remind  the  aged  Chi 
tian  of  the  earlier  trials  which  had  beset  him, 
and  of  the  many  spiritual  triumphs  that  en- 
couraged him  on  his  way. 

But  if  it  is  yet  common  to  keep  such  jour- 
nals, it  is  by  no  means  general.  Those  who 
now  continue  it  as  a  duty  are  not  princi- 
pally of  "  such  as  are  called  to  minister  in 
sacred  things."  The  practice  in  vhis  respect 
seems  to  have  been  revcrsea ;  formerly  it  was 
the  preacher,  now  it  is  mostly  the  private 
member.  In  the  struggling  days  of  Method- 
ism, the  preachers  weie  spiritual  Sampsons, 
humble  minded,  energetic,  and  devoted  men  ; 
but  many  of  their  successors  ft  the  present 
time  are  like  an  enurely  new  race  ;  they  feel 
the  ettects  of  iheir  "  connectional  "  influence  ; 
they  have  become  more  aspiring  and  lofty  in 
thought,  and  are  busy  courting  jwpularity 
and  ))olitical  influence,  estalilishing  "foreign 
missions,"  striving  for  an  eminence  in  lead- 
ing popular  schemes,  or  planning  how  to 
obtain  money  to  erect  richly  decorated  and 


I  .i 


EXETER    HALL. 


11 


attractive  churches,  cr  to  circumambulate  the 
globe,  ill  order  that  tlieir  teachinga  and  reli- 
f3fioua  discipline  may  take  precedence  of  all 
others.  It  is  now  conceded  that  Methodiet 
preachers  are  by  Tar  the  most  systematic  and 
successful  class  of  Protestant  benfgars  in  all 
Christendom. 

Several  of  the  leading  preachers  of  that 
Kect  now  choose  to  be  known  as  "  ministers" 
or  "  clergymen,"  and  who,  with  the  prefix  of 
"  Rev."  or  "  Doctor"  to  their  names,  are  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  as  towering  in  pretension  and  as 
arrogant  in  authority  as  their  more  learned 
and  aristocratic  brethren  of  the  national 
church — the  real  "  successors  of  the  apostles." 
There  are,  however,  noble  exceptions  in  the 
ranks  of  Methodism — men  who  do  not  assume 
a  higher  position  in  the  church  or  in  society 
thaii.  that  held  by  their  laborious  predecessors, 
and  who  are  still  content  to  be  recognized  as 
"preachers,"  and  indifferent,  as  to  whether 
they  are  called  upon  to  deliver  the  "  word  of 
life"  from  the  richly  cushioned  pulpit,  tower- 
ing up  beneath  the  ifilt  and  stuccoed  ceiling 
of  a  fashionable  marble  edifice,  or  from  behind 
tlie  rude  chair  in  the  remote  and  humble  cot- 
tage of  the  peasant. 

It  is  yet  correct  to  state  that  many  private 
members,  and  it  may  be  some  preachers,  still 
adhere  to  the  old  practice  of  Mr.  Wesley, 
and  profess  to  find  the  keeping  of  a  daily  rec- 
ord very  beneficial,  and  an  incentive  to  good 
works. 

In  this  particular,  Mrs.  Mannors  followed 
the  example  of  the  venerable  founder  of  her 
church.  The  religious  services  of  the  Method- 
ists are,  in  some  respects,  if  not  novel,  at 
least  very  singular.  Among  tliese  services, 
one  of  a  peculiar  nature  is  kn«>wn  as  "  class, 
meeting."  A  class  is  composed  of  five  or  six, 
or  may  be  of  a  dozen,  actual  members  of  the 
society,  in  good  standing.  Every  such  class 
has  its  "  leader  " — a  person  who  has  been  well 
tried  and  approved,  and  one  of  known  experi- 
ence in  "holy  things,"  appointed  to  meet 
these  members  at  stated  jwriods.  At  such 
meetings,  each  member  is  personally  addressed 
by  the  leader,  and  is  required  to  express  in  his 
own  way  the  dealings  of  Ciod  with  his  soul, 
and  to  give  a  brief  account  of  his  or  her  reli- 
gious experience  since  they  last  mot.  As 
each  individual  concludes,  the  leader  gives  a 
few  appropriate  words  of  admonition  or  en- 
couragement, and  generally  reconmiends  a 
great(!r  attention  to  prayer,  and  a  closer  ob 
Bervance  of  some  duty  hitherto  neglected. 

The  leader  of  the  class  of  which  Mrs.  Man- 
nor.s  was  a  member  strongly  urged  the  duty 
of  watchfulness ;  and,  as  a  means  of  detection, 
advised  that  each  member  should  if  possible 
keep  a  journal,  and  daily  make  therein  such 
entries  respecting  trials,  temptations,  and  sug- 
gestions from  the  E.  il  One,  as  might  bo  deem- 
ed applicable.  Mrs.  Mannors,  therefore,  kept 
a  journal,  and  noted  for  her  perusal  every  in- 
cident or  Muitter  which  her  feelings  led  her  to 
think  miglit  affect  her  8piritun,l  interest ;  and 
the  er.try  made  by  her  on  the  first  day  of 
April  was  as  follows : 

"  April  Ist. — This  morning  was  again  blest 
In  believing.  Oh!  for  moie  faith.  Would 
that  the  faith  of  the  saints  were  given  to  un- 


believers!  I  still  hope.  God's  arm  is  not 
shortened ;  his  power  is  still  great,  even  to  the 
sending  of  signs  and  visions.  This  morning 
his  glorious  cross  was  visible  to  my  mortal 
eyes.  Satan  would  have  it  a  delusion  ;  but  I 
will  believe."  Then  followed  these  lines  from 
one  of  Wesley's  hymns :  > 

"  Lift  up  for  all  mankind  to  see, 
The  standard  of  their  dying  God, 
And  point  them  to  the  .shameful  tree. 
The  cross  all  stained  with  hallowed  blood." 

Although  it  was  not  unusual  to  see  a  vast 
cloud  of  smoke  stretching  over  London,  suffi- 
cient even  at  times  almost  to  hide  the  tops  of 
the  higliest  steeples,  yet  it  was  an  uncommon 
sight  indeed  to  find  the  city  so  completely 
hidden  as  it  appeared  to  be  that  morning — the 
lone  cross  the  only  distinct  object.  To  the 
natural  philosopher  it  was  a  beautiful  sight  ; 
it  was  very  much  so  to  Mr.  Mannors  and  his 
companions.  There  was  no  mystery  to  them 
about  the  matter ;  even  William,  if  asked  by 
his  father,  could  have  given  an  explanation  of 
the  appearance  and  the  atmospheric  cause. 
But  to  his  mother  it  was  something  more. 
Her  mind  was  strongly  impressed  that  she 
had  been  jiermitted  to  behold  a  vision,  and  she 
felt  certain  that  some  revelation  or  promise 
was  thereby  intended  for  her  special  edifica- 
tion. 

During  a  long  period  of  th«  religious  ca- 
reer of  Mrs.  Mannors,  she  had  often  had 
dreams  and  visions  of  a  singular  and  impres- 
sive character.  In  seasons  of  active  religious 
duty  and  continued  prayer,  she  would  go  forth 
in  dreams  to  Calvary,  on  which  the  cross  and 
Saviour  would  be  for  her  again  erected ;  she 
would  give  a  minute  description  of  his  person 
and  tell  of  the  benignant  smile  that  he  be- 
stowed on  her.  Then  again  she  would  re- 
late some  curious  interposition;  and  a  cir- 
cumstance that  might  pass  entirely  unnoticed 
at  other  times  would  at  these  particular  peri- 
ods be  traced  to  the  hand  of  a  special  provi- 
dence. It  appeared,  therefore,  that  her  mind 
was  occasionally  besnt  by  illusions;  and 
during  certain  periodical  religious  excite- 
ments, she  ate  and  drank,  or  walked  about,  or 
slept,  in  hourly  expectati<m  of  being  the  cho- 
sen bearer  of  some  supernatural  bunlen. 

When  she  entered  the  breakfast  room  that 
morning,  her  reason  was  evidently  perplexed 
by  the  vivid  feelings  which  then  had  the  con- 
trol. Mr.  Mannors,  who  at  once  noticed  the 
appearance  of  anxious  excitement  depicted  on 
her  face,  iind  who  always  felt  and  manifested 
the  most  tender  interest  respecting  her,  laid 
his  hand  gently  on  her  shoulder  and  said: 

"  My  dear,  1  think  you  did  Avrong  by  follow- 
ing our  example,  and  leaving  your  room  so 
early." 

Mr.  Mannors  was  seated  on  a  sofa,  and  her 
looks  certainly  betrayed  the  strong  emotions 
which  affected  her  at  the  moment ;  she  tried 
to  ap.iear  calm,  but  her  anxiety  was  plainly 
visible  Mary  and  William  sat  close  to  her, 
and  wt  re  impulsive  echoes  of  what  their  fa- 
ther had  just  saia. 

"  You  know,  Ma,"  said  Mary, "  that  Pa,  and 
I,  and  William  agreed  to  be  up  very  early 
this  morning.  Pa  wagered  that  he  would  be 
in  the  garden  first,  and  William  and  I  agreed 


12 


EXETER    HALL. 


ill 


that  whichever  of  us  awoke  soonest  should 
call  the  other,  so  that  we  should  got  out  before 
Pa  ;  but  I  think  Pa  would  have  won  only  for 
the  plan  which  William  took." 

"  The  way  I  did.  Ma,  I  saw  Robert  last  even- 
ing in  the  stable,  and  I  knew  that  be  intended 
to  drive  to  Camden  very  early.  I  told  him  to 
call  me  as  soon  as  he  could  see  the  dawn,  so 
he  did  ;  then  I  called  Mary  ;  that  was  how  she 
won  tlie  glomes.  No  doubt  Pa  wondered 
how  we  outgeneraled  him.  Wasn't  my 
plan  a  good  one,  Ma  ?" 

This  hurried  account  of  how  the  wager 
was  won  was  but  so  many  cheerful  words, 
spoken  as  much  to  attract  the  attention  of 
Mrs.  Manners  and  amuse  her,  in  order  that 
the  settled  gravity  of  her  looks  might  grad- 
uplly  brighten  into  the  wished  for  parental 
Bmile  of  approval.  To  efl'ect  this  with  cer- 
tainty, they  went  on  without  a  pause  to  mo- 
nopolize the  conversation. 

"  See,  Ma,"8aid  Mary,  pulling  out  her  gloves, 
"are  not  these  pretty?    This  is  my  wager." 

Then  the  story  of  the  April  fool  was  related  ; 
but  while  Mrs.  Mannors  seemed  to  listen,  it 
was  plain  that  her  thoughts  were  preoccupied ; 
she  looked  wistfully  from  one  to  the  other,  but 
Baid  not  a  word. 

"Are  not  these  beautiful?"  said  William, 
presenting  his  motlier  with  a  bunch  of  fresh 
spring  flowers.  "  See  what  a  nice  bouquet  I 
have  brought  you !"' 

He  began  to  arrange  them  in  a  small  vase  ; 
and  when  done,  he  i)layfully  held  it  toward 
his  mother's  face  in  order  to  have  her  catch 
the  perfume. 

The  breakfast  room  of  Heath  Cottage  looked 
*hat  morning  a  pleasing  picture  in  a  happy 
home.  The  table  neatly  set ;  the  white  cloth, 
the  shining  cups,  and  the  polished  kettle.  The 
chairs,  sofa,  and  other  articles  in  the  room 
stood  around  as  if  they  were  enjoying  thcm- 
Belves,  and  determined  to  exhibit  to  the  best 
advantage  their  glistening  outlines  in  the  sun- 
shine that  flooded  the  whole  apartment. 

It  did  look  like  homo.  Mary's  little  straw 
hat  lay  on  the  sofa  where  she  hurriedly  tossed 
it  as  she  rushed  in,  laughing,  chased  by  lier 
brother ;  and  now  as  she  stood  before  them 
she  looked  as  beautiful  inside  of  the  house  as 
the  fair  spring  morning  did  outside.  No 
three  beings  could  have  been  apparently 
more  happy — poor  Mrs.  Mannors  alone  being 
the  shadow.  Here  she  was  surrounded  with 
cheerfulness  and  worldly  comforts,  loved  and 
waited  on  by  thosoMvho  would  have  been  de- 
lighted to  add  to  her  happiness  ;  but  she  was 
not  l.ippy;  and  as  you  looked  at  her  now, 
Beate.l  demurely  at  the  table,  you  would  liave 
ever  moment  expected  to  hear  her  sigh  out : 
"  Alas,  alas  I  all  is  vanity." 

"O  Mai"  said  Mary,  as  if  suddenly  re- 
collecting, "if  you  had  only  been  in  the 
garden  you  would  have  had  a  most  mag- 
nificijnt  view.  You  know  the  city  is  very 
often  hidden  by  the  immense  volume  of 
snioke  that  desc'ends  during  the  night.  Well, 
this  morning  in  particular,  London  was 
as  completely  lost  to  our  sight  as  if  it  had 
been  swallowed  up  in  the  ocean  ;  and  as  you 
looked  away,  a'vay,  in  the  seeming  boundless 
distance,  you  could  eeo  the  sunbeams  centre 


on  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's,  and  the  great  cross 
being  the  only  object  visible  might  be  easily 
fancied  a  light-house  far,  far  out  at  sea.    We 
all  declared  that  it  was  singularly  attractive 
I  do  wish.  Ma,  you  had  seen  it.". 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Mannors,  "  why 
let  your  fancy  interfere  \\  ith  an  appearance 
that  God  probably  called  forth,  and  intended 
as  a  sign  of  liis  good-will  and  of  his  long-suf- 
fering and  forbearance?  I  saw  the  hallowed 
object  from  the  window ;  1,  too,  saw  the  sacred 
emblem  of  our  religion,  so  much  despised  by 
the  world,  exalted  on  high  in  the  blesscMl 
sunlight,  and  pointing  to  heaven  while  the 
world  beneath  seemed  buried  in  iniquity. 
A  revelation  from  God  is  not  an  impossi- 
bility even  at  the  present  day ;  his  elect  have 
proof  of  this.  We  have  now  the  clear  light 
of  his  sacred  word,  and  if  this  fails-r-as,  alas ! 
it  too  often  does — he  may  in  his  mcx'cy  and 
loving-kindness  give  us  even  again  signs  and 
tokens  as  he  did  of  old.  If  ^ur  hearts  con- 
tinue to  stray  from  him,  he  may  use  extraordi- 
nary means  to  wean  us  from  the  world.  If 
we  remain  stilf-neckcd  and  stubborn,  instead 
of  the  cross,  held  up  as  a  token  of  his  love, 
we  may  but  witness  the  fierce  lightning  of 
his  indignation.  God's  special  providence 
may  have  produced  a  sign  and  a  token  this 
morning  for  us ;  let  us  not  look  on  it  as  a  triv- 
ial occurrence.  HoW  often  are  we  warned  in 
dreams  and  visions  of  the  night.  The  cross 
which  we  but  am  hour  since  witnesst  d  is  the 
emblem  of  Christianity,  and  was  no  aoubt,  in 
my  mind,  a  special  token  for  us.  By  that 
blessed  token,  the  Almighty  has  often  with 
great  condescension  converted  others ;  by  that, 
a  persecuting  Paul,  and  the  debased  and 
heathen  emperor  Constantino,  were  brought 
to  a  saving  knowledge  of  the  truth.  We  have 
just  had  an  evidence  of  divine  interposition ; 
then  let  us  not  neglect  the  great  salvation." 

As  she  spoke,  any  evidence  of  gloom  that 
might  have  been  previously  traced  on  her 
countenance  had  now  entirely  disappeared. 
Her  face  brightened  u]),  and  was  overspread 
with  a  sudden  flush  ;  but  there  was  something 
inexpressible"  in  her  eye,  pnvuething  that 
would  have  bo(  n  once  mistaken  as  prophetic. 
She  was  again  calm,  and  what  she  had 
expressed  was  sjwken  with  great  sincerity  and 
aft'cction.  Her  mind  had  been  overcharged 
with  strangely  inisshiipen  ideas,  and,  as  tho 
words  fell  from  her  lips,  the  numtal  burden 
seemed  to  become  lighter  and  lighter. 

"  I  will  not  dispute  with  you,  my  dear,"  said 
TNFr.  Mannors,  "  as  to  what  tlie  Scrijitures  state 
rcjpecting  the  miraculous  light  St.  Paul  is  said 
to  have  witnessed  ;  you  firmly  believe  in  what 
you  call  tho  'written  word, '  and  would  not 
allow  a  doubt  concerning  it  to  exist  in  your 
mind.  Were  1  fully  competent,  it  might  per- 
haps be  useless  for  me  to  try  and  afl'ect  your  be- 
lief relative  to  that  mid-day  vision." 

"  Indeed,  it  would.  I  am  as  satisfied  of  the 
truth  of  what  tlie  New  Testament  relates  as  to 
tho  conversion  of  St.  Paul  as  I  am  of  the  truth 
of  my  own  existence.  There  is  not  a  passage 
nor  even  o  word  recorded  in  that  holy  book,  but 
has  my  fidl  and  entire  belief;  and  to  listen  to 
any  evidence  against  its  inspired  statements 
would  be  only  soliciting  and  welcoming  a 


EXETER    HALL. 


18 


temptation  from  the  evil  one.  If  we  are  to  go 
on  doubtinf;  according  to  the  foolish  sugges- 
tions of  our  blind  reason,  morality,  religion, 
and  faith  would  soon  disappear,  and  leiw'e  the 
world  in  midnight  darkness."  •Jr 

"  The  very  strong  assertions  which  you  have 
just  made,"  rejoined  Mr.  Manners,"  must  for- 
ever debar  you  from  investigation;  and  if  you 
always  adhere  to  tlie  expressions  you  have  used 
respecting  Scriptural  truth,  you  must  ever  re- 
main bouiid  to  a  belief  that  would  now  be 
t('rrtl)ly  embarrassing  to  some  of  the  most 
prominent  teachers  of  tlie  Christian  faith.  I 
need  scarcely  inform  you  that  many  eminent 
(-'ommcntators,  who  have  made  it  the  study 
of  their  lives  to  explain  and  reconcile  conflict- 
ing texts,  admit  its  impossibility,  and  confess 
themselves  exceedingly  peri^lexed  with  the 
numercHis  interpolations  and  contradictory 
passages  which  they  have  discovered  in  the 
Bil>le.  There  are,  for  instance,  gross  discrepan- 
cies iy..the  inspired  accounts  of  Paul's  conver- 
sion ;  and  you  are  already  aware  that  Luther, 
the  great  apostle  of  the  Reformation,  totally 
rejected  as  spurious  the  entire  Revelation  of 
St.  Jolm — the  last  ticenty-}wo  chapters  of  the 
New  Testament. 

"  But  I  have  no  desire  at  present  to  give  you 
iostances  of  other  doubts  which  have  been 
raised  against  the  credibility  of  the  Scriptures. 
I  would  like  to  call  your  attention  to  histori- 
cal facts  in  relation  to  the  supposed  conver- 
sion of  Constantino. 

"  Are  you  satisfied  that  the  legend  about 
Constantino  and  the  cross  has  any  foundation 
in  fact  ?  Do  you  believe  the  story  of  the  sign 
■which  is  said  to  have  appeared  to  him  in  the 
heavens,  bearing  the  motto,  'By  this  con- 
quer' V  Do  you  really  believe  that  this  repu- 
ted miraculous  vision  was  the  cause  of  the 
heathen  Emperor's  conversion  to  Chris- 
tianity "i" 

"  I  have  no  reason,  nor  have  I  any  right,  to 
doubt  it.  The  most  eminent  men  of  that 
period  were  satisfied  of  its  truth  ;  and  even  to 
the  present  day  many  of  the  most  learned 
and  faithful  of  the  church  of  God  have,  time 
after  time,  related  the  story  for  general  belief. 
We  should  not  undervalue  the  Bible  because 
there  are  or  may  be  difliereut  interpretations 
of  it.  The  Scriptures  warn  us  against  '  per- 
verse teacliings ; '  for  we  know  that  even 
ministers  of  religion  have  tried  to  twist  the 
true  meaning  of  the  word  to  accommodate 
their  own  vi(nvs.  As  for  Lutlier's  opinion  of 
tlio  Apocalypse,  I  care  but  little ;  he  was  but 
an  erring  num,  his  acts  were  not  always  de- 
fensible. He  was  at  tiuK^s  a  skeptic,  and 
would  have  been  a  persecutor." 

"  Well,  I  shall  not  contend  with  you  now  as 
to  why  religious  doctors  will  differ  so  widely 
respecting  what  they  assert  in  the  press  and 
pulpit  to  be  so  easily  understood.  You  are 
inclined  to  accept  as  truth  the  relation  about 
Constantine  ;  but  if  we  allow  our  feelings  or 
imjiressions  to  bo  the  foundation  of  an  opin- 
ion, we  are  very  likely  to  be  deceived.  Long 
before  that  emperor  circulated  the  account  of 
the  ai)pearance  which  ho  said  he  had  seen  in 
the  htavens,  the  heathen  multitude  were 
taught  to  believe  that  ho  was  permitted  to 
behold  with  mortal  eyes  the  visiblo  majesty 


of  their  tutelar  deity,  and  that  whether  wak- 
ing or  in  visions — which  were  then  quite  com- 
mon— he  was  blessed  with  the  auspicious 
omens  of  a  long  and  victorious  reign.* 
Tiiese  are  historical  words ;  and  it  is  therefore 
plain  tliat  visions  were  not  a  novelty  to  Con- 
stantine whenever  he  found  that  they  could 
be  of  personal  or  political  service.  The  mi- 
raculous view  of  the  cross  had  in  reality  but 
little  eflect  upon  himself.  The  common  im- 
pression is,  that  he  immediately  became  a  re- 
fonnetl  man — that  is,  a  Christian ;  but  liistory 
relates  that  he  lived  for  many  years  after- 
ward, and  alternately  encouraged  lieathen- 
ism  and  Christianity,  and  that  it  was  only 
during  his  last  illness  that  he  actually  receiv- 
ed Christian  baptism.  Constantine  was  a 
dissembler  and  a  monster  of  cruelty.  He 
drowned  his  unoffending  wife  Fausta  in  a 
bath  of  boiling  water ;  and  the  very  year  in 
which  it  is  said  he  presided  at  the  council  of 
Nice,  he  beheaded  his  eldest  son  Crispus.  He 
murdered  the  husbands  of  his  sisters  Constan- 
tia  and  Anastasia;  he  murdered  his  father- 
in-law,  and  his  nephew,  a  boy  only  twelve 
years  old,  and  murdered  others.  Then,  again, 
he  caused  the  destruction  of  the  Pagan  priest, 
Sopater,  who  honestly  refused  the  remorse- 
less, royal  murderer  the  List  consolations  of 
heathenism;  and  then,  because  he  was 
promised  immediate  forgiveness  through 
(/hrist,  ho  warmly  espoi;sed  Christianity. 
Such,  then,  is  the  historical  character  given  of 
the  man  whom  Christians  are  taught  to  re- 
vere ;  the  man  to  whom  it  is  said  that  Chris- 
tianity owes  its  legal  establishment.  Ho  was 
cruel  and  rapacious,  a  heathen  one  day  and  a 
Christian  the  next ;  and  his  name  at  last  be- 
came infamous  as  an  unfeeling,  dissimulating 
tyrant  and  heartless  murderer. 

So  much,  then,  for  the  great  convert  and  his 
vision.  I  was  as  much  pleased  with  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  sliining  cross  which  was  vis- 
ible to  us  this  morning  as  it  was  possible  for 
me  to  have  been.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight,  but 
beyond  that  it  was  nothing.  You  believe  it 
was  a  vision,  a  special  appearance  for  our  edifi- 
cation; no  doubt  that  is  your  impression.  But 
why  are  wo  not  all  impressed  alike  ?  If  God 
really  intended  to  manifest  himself  to  us  by  a 
sign,  it  is  only  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
he  would  have  made  the  evidence  so  satisfac- 
tory that  there  could  remain  no  shadow  of 
doubt  as  to  its  object.  What  is  evidence  to 
one  may  not  bo  so  to  another.  You  can  no  more 
believe  for  me  than  you  can  breathe  for  me. 
Genuine  belief  is  not  a  voluntary  act ;  it  is  the 
result  of  thought  and  patient  investigation. 
If  I,  therefore,  can  not  believe  that  the  Almigh- 
ty manifested  himself  to  us  this  morning  by 
a  sign,  your  fancied  vision  is  a  failure  as  far  as 
/am  concerned." 

The  conversation  now  related  took  place 
during  the  time  occupied  at  breakfast.  Mr. 
Manners  expressed  himself  with  unusual 
earnestness  ;  he  spoke  as  if  he  felt  that  every 
word  was  truth,  and  that  truth  must  be 
spoken,  no  matter  what  the  consequence  ;  and 
were  it  not  that  he  thought  it  might  bo  pain- 
ful to  givd  his  wife  other  similar  proofs  of  the 

*  Gibbon'8  Roman  IIlBt. 


14 


EXETER  HALL. 


irS, 


IH!! 


HI 


vile  character  of  men  imposed  upon  the  credu- 
lous and  siuiple  as  bein^  the  sanctified  lathers 
of  tlie  churcli,  he  would  have  done  so.  Many 
instances  of  the  treachery  and  deceit  of  such 

EBrsons  occurred  to  him,  but  he  felt  that  he 
ad  said  enough ;  he  knew  by  experience  that 
it  was  useless  to  confine  Mrs.  Mannors  to  fair 
argument.  Her  controversial  method  was  na- 
ked assertion ;  and  if  she  listened  to  an  oppo 
nent,  it  was  often  as  if  in  pity  for  his  pre- 
sumed ignorance  and  unbelief. 

Mary  and  her  brother  were  quiet  listeners 
to  what  had  been  said ;  she  did  not  wish  to 
make  any  remark  for  or  against  the  opinions 
or  statements  advanced.  Mrs.  Mannors  had 
also  listened,  as  it  were,  thoughtfully,  .<ind  with 
unusual  patience.  She  firmly  believed  in  the 
honesty  of  her  husband's  convictions.  She 
knew  that  he  never  dealt  in  rash  assertions,  or 
in  unkind  remarks.  What  he  said  she  knew 
he  believed,  and  if  he  acted  in  any  other  way 
he  would  be  untrue  to  his  own  character.  She 
would  hear  what  he  said,  painful  as  it  might 
be  to  listen  ;  and  while  he  reasoned  with  her, 
she  would  menially  pray  for  his  enlighten- 
ment ;  she  would  ever  hope  and  wait  until  the 
Lord's  good  time.  She  had  great  faith  that 
if  the  inspired  word  could  prevail  with  the 
heathen.and  the  ignorant  and  poll  uted,  that  her 
husband  and  her  dear  children,  though  un- 
clean, debased,  and  condemned  by  original  sin, 
would  be  yet  brought  to  a  saving  knowledge 
of  the  truth.  To  her,  in  her  fond  affection, 
they  were  as  superior  beings,  and  she  had  an 
idea  that  the  Lord  would  look  upon  them  as 
such,  and  send  conversion  in  answer  to  her 
prayers. 

Breakfast  and  discussion  having  now  ended, 
Mr.  Mannors  retired  to  the  little  apartment 
connected  with  the  library.  He  sat  musing 
at  the  open  window.  The  morning  was  still 
fair  and  beautiful ;  the  very  air  was  fragrance, 
as  its  gentle  breathings  stole  like  the  sunlight 
over  his  face.  The  outer  world  was  very  quiet ; 
the  hum  of  the  distant  busy  commerce  was  now 
as  soft  as  the  hum  of  the  busy  bee  in  the  gar- 
den. It  was  a  time  just  fit  for  musing,  a  time 
when,  if  you  are  not  careful,  your  thoughts  are 
apt  to  mutiny,  and,  like  sprites,  to  scatter  the 
mind  in  fragments  away  into  the  dreamy 
twilight  of  oblivion. 

But  Mr.  Mannors  was  thinking ;  ho  had  ever 
food  for  thought,  and  his  thoughts  were  ever 
vigorous.  He  dwelt  upon  the  multitude  of 
confiicting  opinions  that  agitated  mankind. 
Every  country  and  people  and  creed  has  each 
its  peculiar  idea  of  truth,  and  all  are  strug- 
gling and  contending  for  that  absolute  idea 
which  is  unattainable  by  man.  Wonderful  is 
the  mystery  of  belief;  the  deeper  the  mys- 
tery the  greater  the  faith.  All  religionists 
art!  great  believers  ;<  and  what  a  multitude  of 
religions  and  diversity  of  creeds  1  The  evi- 
dence which  brings  belief  to  one  generates 
doubt  in  another.  What  is  truth  in  Eng- 
land is  error  in  Rome  I  Belief,  therefore,  is  a 
mystery,  and  faith  has  made  this  very  world 
the  "  bedlam  of  the  universe." 

In  order  to  establish  a  religion,  you  must 
Jiave  attendant  mysteries  and  visions.  The 
ancient  heathen  priests  wrought  on  the  minds 
of  their  followers  almost  entirely  by  such  agen- 


cies. Tlie  Egyptians,  the  Persians,  the  Jews, 
the  Grecians,  and  Romans  would  have  found 
their  altars  deserted  were  it  not  for  this  re- 
source ;  and  no  kind  of  religious  imposition 
has  ever  yet  failed  where  visions  and  oracles 
have  been  well  applied. 

The  Bible  is  a  history  of  visions;  and  from 
such,  prophets  and  apostles  derived  their  mis- 
sion and  their  inspiration.  The  advent  of 
Christ  was  made  known  to  the  shepherds  by  a 
vision,  and  his  life  was  a  kaleidoscope  of  vis- 
ions. The  apostles  had  visions,  and  by  this 
means  St.  Paul  was  converted.  Then,  besides 
a  multitude  of  later  ones,  there  was  Constan- 
tino's visions  of  the  gods,  and  Iiis  celebrated 
vision  of  the  cross.  There  was  Mohammed's 
vision  of  the  angel  Gabriel.  Sti?)  later,  there 
were  Luther's  visions,  and  Swedenborg's 
visions,  and  visions  to  the  Mormon  prophet, 
and  to  the  Spiritualists,  and  to  Latter-day 
Saints ;  and  last  of  all,  the  vision  this  morning 
to— my  wife. 

He  still  mused,  and  the  soft  wind-whispers 
that  stirred  the  young  spring  leaves  flew  in 
fragrant  ecstasy  from  bud  to  bud.  Mary's 
sweet  song  from  the  summer  house  reached 
his  ear  like  the  low  murmur  of  distant  melo- 
dy, but  which  after  awhile  gradually  swelled 
out  to  a,  sound  like  martial  music,  slow,  plain- 
tive, and  funereal. 

Ho  looked,  and  a  strange  procession  passed 
before  hiA.  A  solemn  company  of  men  of  an- 
tiquated appearance,  attired  in  ancient  look- 
ing costumes,  and  headed  by  a  motley  band  of 
melancholy  musicians,  marched  slowly  on- 
ward. Each  of  the  antiquated  men  carried  a 
large  inflated  bundle  on  his  shoulder,  and  when 
he  arrived  at  a  certain  spot,  which  seemed  to  be 
a  deep,  dark  gulf,  dashed  his  bundle  down 
with  great  force.  There  was  a  flash  and  an 
explosion,  and  then  some  grotesque  monster 
or  horrid  vision  would  appear  and  disappear 
in  a  moment !  He  then  eaw  two  demure-look- 
ing men  advancing  toward  him  from  opposite 
fides  ;  as  they  drew  nigher  they  spat  at,  and 
scowled  upon  each  other :  one  he  took  to  be 
the  Pope,  and  the  other  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury.  They  held  with  firm  grip  stout 
episcopal  crosiers,  and  when  they  approached 
sufficiently  near,  they  stared  at  him  with  an 
angry  frown,  and  then  together  let  fall  their 
pastoral  staff's  heavily  on  his  head.  Mary  had 
just  stolen  in  and  given  her  father  a  smart 
pat  on  the  shoulder,  and  Martin  Mannors 
lifted  his  head  and — awoke. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

It  is  a  prevailing  opinion  among  certain 
of  the  worldly-minded  that  persons  who  are 
very  religious  must  of  necessity  be  alco  very 
ascetic  ;  this  is  a  mistake.  It  is  quite  possible 
that  the  devotee  or  religious  enthusiast  of  the 
present  day  may  be  one  who,  above  all  others, 
is  able  and  willing  not  only  to  enjoy  the  crea- 
ture comforts  within  his  roach,  but  also  with 
many  of  the  aforesaid  comforts  and  delicacies 
to  seek  and  secure  secular  distinctions  for 
which  crowds  of  common  sinners  are  mobt 
clamorous. 


J 


J 


EXETER   HALL. 


16 


The  servants  of  the  church  were  never  yet 
debarred  from  reasonable  enjoyments ;  and  we 
find  that  their  appreciation  of  things  condu- 
cive to  personal  ease  and  comfort  has  not  at 
all  lessened.  Many  of  the  "  successors  of  the 
apostles"  can  now  innocently  display  their 
humble  wealth  in  paletial  residences,  ai^d  can 
appear  in  public  in  gorgeous  sackcloth  as 
"  lords  "  of  the  "  spiritual "  realm.  The 
"  pious  "  seem  to  understand  the  true  mean- 
ing of  pastoral  self-denial ;  for  presentations 
of  gold  and  silver  plate  to  those  who  minister 
in  sacred  tilings  are  quite  common  ;  and  if 
genuine  comlbrt  is  to  be  enjoyed  on  this  side 
of  the  grave,  priests  of  the  altar,  with,  it  may 
be  presumed,  the  greatest  purity  of  motive, 
strive  to  obtain  it  to  the  fullest  extent. 

In  very  old  times,  to  be  sure,  before  people 
ever  thought  of  trying  to  reconcile  religion 
■with  common  sense,  to  be  a  devotee  thin  was 
to  be  almost  as  entirely  dead  or  indifferent  to 
what  concerned  your  body  as  if  it  did  not  be- 
long to  you,  and  was  only  carried  about  as  a 
curse  or  temptation  to  be  got  rid  of  as  soon  as 
possib  I  i.  And  the  recluses  of  that  dark  period 
had  a  gloomy  belief  that  existence  itself  was  a 
burden,  from  which  to  be  early  released  was 
only  to  gain  a  readier  passport  to  paradise. 

Yes,  indeed  ;  popular  piety  in  those  morose 
ages  led  to  strange  misconceptions  of  man's 
duty  here,  and  of  his  destiny  in  a  future  state. 
But  no  matter  whether  pious  emotions  arose 
from  a  contemplation  of  the  virtues  of  Vishnu, 
or  Siva,  or  from  any  of  the  ancient  '*  Saviours," 
or  from  other  gods  or  goddesses  of  the  most 
remote  antiquity,  religion  in  every  form  has 
had  its  frantic  votaries,  its  therapeute,  its  fa- 
kirs, its  monks,  its  anchorites,  its  convulsion- 
aries,  and  its  many  other  wild  unreasoning  vis- 
ionaries. Setting  aside  particular  instances  of 
the  fanaticism  of  Egyptian  or  Indian  gymnoso- 
phists,  or  of  the  priests  of  the  Syrian  god- 
dess who  Hogged  themselves  in  her  honor, 
or  of  the  priests  of  Isis  who  did  the  same, 
or  of  the  priests  of  Bellona  or  Diana  who  co- 
vered themselves  with  wounds,  or  of  the 
priests  of  Cybele  who  made  themselves  eu- 
nuchs, or  of  fakirs  who  went  loaded  with 
chains,  or  of  savage  devotees  who,  to  propitiate 
some  god,  would  as  readily  tling  an  infant  in- 
to the  Ganges  or  Nile  as  an  Israelitish  Jehu 
would  destroy  the  child  of  an  Ahab,  I'ow  fear- 
ful, alas !  is  the  lesson  we  have  to  learn  respect- 
ing the  vicious  and  inhuman  impulst>8  which 
men  in  all  times  have  derived  from  the  influ- 
ence of  what  is  called  "  religion."  No  other 
influence  has  ever  been  so  terribly  potent ; 
it  has  robbed  them  of  their  reason,  it'has  made 
them  brutes,  and  guilty  of  acts  and  practic(?s 
diabolical  and  most  degrading  to  hmnanity. 

But  from  the  praises  which  have  been  lav- 
ished on  the  Christian  scheme,  from  its  protean 
creeds,  and  its  millions  of  wcrshiiierj ;  from 
the  submission  of  great  minds  to  its  inspira- 
tion ;  from  its  promises  of  "  peace  and  good- 
will ;"  from  its  reputed  virtue,  its  great 
"wealth  or  its  vast  iwpularity,  who  could  have 
expected  such  terrible  results  to  fullow  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  system  which  promised  so 
much  charity,  so  much  benovolenoe,  so  much 
virtue,  and  so  much  })eace  ?  In  the  history  of 
the  world,  the  plodding  progress  of  Chris- 


tianity, the  religion  of  warlike  and  desr^lated 
Europe,  can  l)e  truved  all  over  the  eart.h  in 
dread  characters  of  blood  and  ruin. 

Is  it  not,  then,  deplorable  to  discover  that 
austerities  and  debasements  and  horrid  cruel- 
ties did  not  cease  upon  the  inculcation  of  doc- 
trines which,  like  others  more  ancient,  espe- 
cially claimed  a  divine  origin  and  authority. 
From  its  earliest  days,  the  new  faith  was  in- 
cumbered with  delusions  and  absurdities  of 
the  most  degrading  character.  There  seemed 
to  be  no  modification  of  extravagant  practices 
like  those  of  ancient  heathen  devotees,  and  in- 
tokirance  was  bid  to  reign  in  dread  earnest. 
Multitudes  of  Christian  hermits  and  monks 
abandoned  the  duties  of  life  to  rush  idiotically 
into  some  monastery  or  wilderness,  professing 
tliat  the  perfection  of  human  nature  was  the  an- 
nihilation of  genial  feeling  or  affection,  and 
that  the  passions  which  kind  nature  had  im- 
planted should,  if  possible,  be  uprooted  or  de- 
stroyed. For  this  purix)se,  many  of  these  fana- 
tics went  nearly  naked,  letting  their  hair  and 
nails  grow,  dwelling  in  gloomy  caves,  or  in 
such  rocky  recesses  as  would  afford  temporary 
shelter.  It  has  been  written  that  "  the  more 
rigid  and  heroic  of  the  Christian  anchorites 
dispensed  with  all  clothing  except  a  rug,  or  a 
few  palm-leaves  around  the  loins.  Most  of 
them  abstained  from  the  use  of  water  for  ab- 
lution, nor  did  they  usually  wash  or  change 
the  garments  they  had  once  put  on ;  and  it  is 
said  that  St.  Anthony  bequeathed  to  Athana- 
sius  a  skin  in  which  his  sacred  person  had 
been  wrapped  for  half  a  century."* 

Among  the  most  remarkable  of  these 
wretched  fanatics  is  that  of  Paul,  the  hermit, 
who,  it  is  recorded,  lived  for  over  ninety  years 
in  an  Egyptian  desert  more  like  a  beast  than 
a  human  being.  Gregory  Nazianzen  tells  of 
such  early  fanatics  in  the  following  words : 
"There  were  some  who  loaded  themselves 
with  chains,  in  order  to  bear  down  their 
bodies;  others  who  shut  themselves  up  in 
cabins,  and  appeared  to  nobody ;  some  con- 
tinued twenty  days  and  twenty  nights  with- 
out eating,  often  practicing  the  half  the  fast  of 
our  Lord.  One  individual  is  said  to  have  ab- 
stained entirely  from  speaking,  and  another 
passed  whole  years  in  a  church  with  extend- 
ed hands,  like  an  animated  statue." 

But  it  is  said  that  the  most  astonishing 
account  in  ecclesiastical  history  of  self-pun- 
ishment is  that  recorded  of  an  infatuated  per- 
son called  St.  Symeon,  a  native  of  Syria.  He 
lived  thirty-six  years  on  a  pillar,  erected  on  a 
mountaiu  in  that  country.  From  this  pillar 
it  is  said  he  never  descended  except  to  take 
lx)8session  of  another,  which  he  did  four 
times.  The  last  one  which  he  occupied  was 
loftier  than  the  others,  being  sixty  feet  high, 
and  but  three  feet  broad;  and  the  account 
states  that  on  the  last  pillar  lie  stood  for  sev- 
eral years,  day  and  night,  summer  and  winter, 
exposed  to  heat  and  cold,  and  to  all  the  sud- 
den changes  of  a  severe  climate.  The  breadth 
of  the  pillar  was  not  sufllcient  to  permit  him 
to  lie  down;  and  it  is  said  that  he  used  to 
spend  most  of  the  day  in  meditation  and 

*  Sec  DowHng's  History  of  Romanism,  p.  88,  Taylor*! 
Aucieut  CliriHtlttiiity,  pp.  43(M(il,  otc,  otc. 


u 


EXETER    HALL. 


.!.    . 


prayer,  and  in  the  afternoon  until  sunset  ha- 
ranpfue  the  crowds  from  all  countries  who 
flocked  to  hear  him. 

The  superstitions  abounding  in  the  early 
ages  of  the  Christian  Church  were  most  de- 
grading, and  overwhelmed  the  reason  of  all 
classes.  According  to  Mosheim ,  there  were  fas- 
cinated biographers  in  the  sixth  century  who 
used  to  "  amuse  their  readers  with  gigantic 
fables  and  trifling  romances.  The  examples 
they  exhibit  are  those  of  certain  delirious  fa- 
natics whom  they  call  saints,  men  of  corrupt 
and  perverted  judgment,  who  offered  vio- 
lence to  reason  and  nature  by  the  horrors 
of  an  extravagant  austerity  in  their  own  con- 
duce, and  by  the  severity  of  those  singular 
and  inhuman  rules  which  they  prescribed  to 
others.  For  by  what  means  were  these  men 
sainted?  By  starving  tliemselves  with  a  fran- 
tic obstinacy,  and  bearing  the  useless  hard- 
ships of  hunger,  thirst,  and  inclement  seasons 
with  steadfastness  and  perseverance ;  by  run- 
ning about  the  country  like  madmen,  in  tatter- 
ed garments  and  sometimes  half  naked,  or  sliut- 
ting  themselves  up  in  a  narrow  space  where 
they  continued  motionless ;  by  standing  for  a 
long  time  in  certain  postures  witli  their 
eyes  closed  in  the  enthusiastic  expectation  of 
divine  light — all  this  was  saint-like  and  glori- 
ous ;  and  the  more  iliat  any  ambitious  fanatic 
departed  from  the  dictates  of  reason  and  com- 
mon sense,  and  counterfeited  the  wild  gestures 
and  incolierent  conduct  of  an  idiot  or  a  lunatic, 
the  surer  was  his  prospect  of  obtaining  an 
eminent  rank  among  the  heroes  and  demigods 
of  a  corrupt  and  degenerate  tliurch."* 

Then  in  the  tenlii  century,  scourging  as  a 
penance  was  the  prevailing  custom,  and  sin 
ners  of  the  highest  rank  cheerfully  submitted 
themselves.  Henry  XL  was  flogged  by  tlie 
monks  of  Canterbury  in  1207.  Raymond, 
Count  of  Toulouse,  was  flogged  with  a  rope 
around  his  neck  at  the  door  of  St.  Giles's 
churcli.  Tlie  chaplains  of  Louis  VIII.,  King 
of  France,  were  flogged  by  order  of  the 
Pope's  legate,  and  Ilenry  IV.  of  France  was 
treated  the  same  way  by  a  cardinal. 

In  the  thirteenth  century,  men  almost  nak- 
ed, witli  a  rod  in  one  liand  and  a  crucifix  in 
the  other,  flogged  themselves  in  the  public 
streets,  and  from  that  time  flagellation  became 
a  common  practice  nearly  all  througli  Europe 
until  tlie  sixteenth  century ;  and  it  was  thouglit 
Bo  commendable  that  Henry  III.,  by  the  advice 
of  his  confessor,  the  Jesuit,  Edmund  Auger, 
placed  himself  at  tlie  head  of  the  flaf  ellators. 
Even  to  the  present  day,  in  parts  of  Italy  and 
Spain,  ^;ersons  may  still  be  found  who  prac- 
tice tills  bodily  chastisement ;  and  now,  in 
the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  when 
we  find  ritualism  on  the  increase,  when  we  find 
a  Protestant  Ignatius  in  England,  and  nunne- 
ries, and  other  gloomy  places  of  refuge  for 
pious  visioiTiries,  in  every  part  of  Europe,  as 
well  as  in  Asia  and  America,  one  may  well  ex- 
claim, that  the  race  of  silly  saints  or  of  wild  fa- 
natics is  not  yet  quite  extinct. 

Protestant  Christians,  liowever,  as  a  body,  de- 
sire to  claim  an  exemption  from  such  acts  of 
folly  and  barbarity,  aud  assert  that  their  bo- 

/  Sec  Mosheim,  century  vi.  part  8,  chapter  iiJ. 


lief  does  not  require  a  denial  of  any  proper 
or  reasonable  enjoyment.  But  Protestants, 
though  perhaps  not  yet  as  guilty  to  the  same 
extent  as  the  faithful  of  Koine,  can  not  assert 
that  tliey  are  free  from  this  charge.  They 
never  had  the  same  opportunities ;  but  when 
opportunity  offered,  they  have  been  as  intoler- 
ant, as  bitter  in  persecution,  and  altogether  as 
overbearing  in  spirit,  as  were  tlie  cruel  dogma- 
tists of  any  other  form  of  religion.  Protes- 
tants ought  not  to  boast  of  their  religious  liber- 
ality, or  freedom  from  religious  folly.  What 
has  been  the  liberality  of  that  monster  of  cu- 
pidity, the  English  Establishment?  Already 
in  Britain  the  black  draped  seri's  of  the  High 
Church,  yearning  for  heathen  and  Romish  for- 
malities, have  done  much  in  a  quiet  way  to 
establisli  religious  ordtjrs,  and  confessionals, 
and  places  of  seclusion ;  and  were  it  not  for 
tlio  strong  common  sense  of  the  common  peo- 
ple ;  were  it  not  for  the  hatred  of  oppression 
and  the  proud  love  of  freedom  that  exist  in 
that  ittle  isle  among  nature's  great  legion  of 
honor,  there  would  be  another  Star  Cham- 
ber, and  another  importation  of  relics  and 
thumb-screws ;  and  we  should  find  crosses  and 
pictures  and  holy  water  and  holy  candles,  and 
other  sanctified  trumpery  in  many  places  of 
worship  erected  under  the  auspices  and  au- 
thority of  that  greedy  insatiable  mammoth. 

Are  Dissenters  or  Nonconformists  free  from 
the  sin  ?  Not  at  all.  Cromwell's  praying  le- 
gions were  a  set  of  morose  jangling  fanatics ; 
mouthing  texts  of  vengeance,  and  whetting 
their  swords  to  glut  them  with  blood.  To  the 
elect  of  the  Puritan  cast,  we  are  indebted  for 
genuine  specimens  of  ascetic  folly,  supersti- 
tion, and  intolerance  ;  they  recognized  witch- 
craft in  America,  and  gave  weeping,  pleading, 
and  feeble  old  women  to  the  flames  in  Boston ; 
they  hounded,  persecuted,  and  destroyed  un- 
oflfending  Quakers  ;  and  established  a  rule  of 
terror  in  the  noted  Blue  laws  of  Connecticut.* 

Although  there  are  '  y  far  too  many  good 
Christians  who,  like  Mrs.  Manners,  still  think 
that  ilxL^y  should  be  ready  and  willing  to  re- 
sign the  dearest  earthly  treasure — ^jewels  of 
the  heart — husband  or  wife  or  children,  in  the 
vain  fancy  that  the  sacrifice  would  be  pleas- 
ing to  God ;  yet  the  majority  of  pious  people 
are  getting  more  sensible — a  sacrificial  theory 
to  this  extent  has  the  preference — and  the 
godly  seem  determined  to  enjoy  themselves. 
And  now,  if  you  had  an  opportunity,  Asmo- 
deus-like,  to  ])eep  in  through  the  little  parlor 
window  of  the  comfortable  house  of  the  Rev. 
James  Baker,  you  would  at  once  have  a  con- 
vincing proof  that  the  straitest  of  formalists 
and  the  strictest  of  church -members  can  be, 
at  certain  times,  as  cosy  and  contented,  and 
can  enjoy  the  creature  comforts  as  well  as  the 
most  worldly-mintl'id. 

Looking,  then,  into  this  little  parlor,  we  see 
a  smiling  set  of  faces  around  a  cheerful  tea- 
table.  The  carpeted  apartment  was  very  pleas- 
ant ;  the  pretty  lardscapes  which  hung  on 
the  papered  walls  seemed  to  hnik  their  best ; 
the  bright  tea-pot  glistened,  and  its  odorous 
fumes  twirled  around  and  around  as  if  iu 
ecstasy  to  reach  the  white  ceiling.    It  was 

*8ee  Note  A. 


EXETER   HALL. 


IT 


not  exactly  what  mijjht  be  called  a  small  tea- 
party  ;  it  was  more  like  a  moderate  female 
convention.  There  were  eight  ladies  quietly 
slppin<;  tlie  fragrant  decoction;  most  of  them 
were  of  rather  mature  ago,  and  they  seemed 
to  be  engaged  in  the  pleasant  discussion  of 
some  subject  which  alternately  produced  very 
opposite  feelings. 

The  lady  who  presided  was  Mrs.  Baker,  wife 
of  the  minister,  and  leader  of  the  class  in 
which  Mrs.  Mannors  met  for  religious  exercise. 
Mrs.  Baker  was  a  person  evidently  well  fitted 
for  the  position  assigned  her  in  the  church. 
Though  her  mental  culture  was  imptrfect,  she 
was  confident  in  manner,  fluent  in  words,  and 
well  supplied  with  liymns  and  texts,  wliicu 
enabled  her  to  give  force  and  point  to  any  re- 
ligious remarks  she  might  make.  She  led  in 
conversation  as  readily  as  slu'  did  in  prayer  ; 
and  if  she  could  use  texts  i  good  purpose 
with  her  own  sex,  she  could  aiso  occasionally 
give  wings  to  a  joke,  and  drive  away  any  svx- 
perfluous  gloom  that  might  follow  her  suc- 
cessive phrases  of  pious  observation. 

Th(!  ladies  who  were  guests  at  Mrs.  Baker's 
that  afternoon  wore  the  members  of  her  class 
who  met  at  her  house,  by  regular  appoint- 
ment, one  evening  in  every  week  ;  and  it  often 
happened  that  after  tlie  performance  of  tlieir 
religioas  duties  most  of  them  would  be  in- 
duced to  remain  for  tea.  Tims  these  periodi- 
cal reunions  Avere  very  social,  i)leasant,  and 
profitable ;  and  through  tlie  week  this  meet- 
ing was  anticipated  with  much  pleasure.  The 
conversation  which  their  little  parties  found 
most  interesting  generally  related  to  the  pecu- 
liar interests  or  concerns  of  their  own  society — 
something  about  new  churches,  new  ministers, 
or  new  members ;  and  anecdotes  concerning 
the  formation  of  choirs,  or  Sunday-schools,  or 
tea  meetings  ;  but  the  subject  most  generally 
attractive  was  that  about  great  puljlic  as- 
semblages, in  which  Methodism  was  expected 
to  appear  in  particular  refulgence.  Regular 
anniversaries  were  therefore  talked  of  for 
months  previous  to  their  recurrence ;  and 
meetings  of  conference,  or  missionary  meet- 
ings, or  Bible  souiety  meetings  became  for  a 
])eriod  not  only  a  household  theme,  but  our; 
which  for  a  time  absorbed  all  others. 

Mrs.  Mannors  being  one  of  tlie  most  regular 
attendants  at  class  was,  of  course,  among  those 
who  remained  at  Mrs.  Baker's  little  party  ;  but 
as  she  labored  under  a  ])eculiar  spiritual  de- 
pression— a  fre(iuent  liability — she  had  the  cor- 
responding sympathy  of  her  sisters.  With  the 
usual  formal  recital  at  class  of  tlie  trials  and 
temptations  and  impressions  of  the  week  that 
had  just  passed,  she  gave  a  glowing  account 
of  lier  supposed  vision,  and  her  inference  as  to 
its  appearance  being  a  providential  token  of 
spiritual  succor  to  her  and  her  house ;  and 
she  claimed  tlio  prayers  of  all  present  on  be- 
half of  those  so  near  and  dear  to  her.  The 
appeal  had  its  intended  effect ;  she  had  the 
tears  of  many,  and  the  promise  of  the  affec- 
tionate prayers  of  all ;  and  for  the  time  she 
felt  how  gfiod  it  was  to  bo  there,  and  she  grew 
more  confident  that,  where  two  or  three  met 
together  in  her  behalf,  the  expected  blessing 
would  bo  sure  to  follow. 

Mrs.  Mannors  had  another  object  in  view ; 


she  expressed  a  desire  to  entertain  at  her 
house  the  next  junior  preacher  appointed  to 
the  circuit ;  she  lioped  that  ouch  a  person  in 
social  intercourse  with  her  husband  might  be 
able  to  counteract  or  eradicate  the  skeptical 
notions  which  he  unfortunately  entertained. 
As  it  was,  he  never  attended  any  place  of  wor- 
ship ;  and  as  she  had  failed  to  inhuence  him, 
or  give  his  thoughts  the  direction  she  desired, 
she  trusted  and  ligped  that  the  preacher,  as 
a  temporary  member  of  the  family,  might  be 
able  to  drop  a  word,  time  after  time,  which, 
with  the  supplication  of  God's  people,  might 
have  a  good  effect. 

"  Sister  Mannors,"  said  Mrs.  Baker,  with 
great  earnestness,  "  I  approve  of  your  plan ; 
and  it  is  most  singular  that  it  occurred  to 
you  at  the  present  time.  Strange,  I  never 
thought  of  telling  you  that  Mr.  Baker  was 
notified  l^y  the  district  chairman  that  n  young 
preacher  would  be  sent  to  Ilampstead  at  onco, 
and  that  if  he  was  found  acceptalile,  the  Con, 
ference  might  sanction  his  continuance."  Mrs 
Mannors  was  delighted  with  the  information 
and  she  immediately  told  her  sisters  in  the 
faith  that  she  looked  upon  this  intelligence 
as  the  first-fruits  of  her  prayers ;  and  her  con- 
fidence in  the  vision  grew  stronger  than  ever. 

"  When  do  you  expect  Mr.  Baker  home  t" 
she  asked  eagerly.  "  Let  me  see,  ho  left  for 
the  circuit  on  Wednesday ;  lie  expected  to 
meet  the  new  preacher  at  brother  Moflatt's, 
and  it  is  likely  that  he  may  be  here  to-mor- 
row evening,  or  perhaps  sooner." 

"  This  is  Friday,"  observed  one  of  the  sis- 
ters ;  "  Mr.  Baker  has  not  been  long  from 
home." 

"  Indeed,  I  wish  he  was  away  less,"  replied 
Mrs.  Baker.  "  I  often  envy  most  of  you. 
When  you  are  at  home  with  your  family — 
with  children  and  friends — I  am  here  mostly 
alone,  and  my  poor  man  may  be  wandering 
over  hill  and  dale,  as  the  song  says.  Well, 
well,  I  sometimes  think  that  this  way  of  serv- 
ing God  is  very  hard." 

"  And  so  it  is,  sister,"  said  a  member  of  tho 
class  ;  "  but  you  know  it  is  a  great  privilege 
to  b*  a  helpmate  to  a  servant  of  tho  Lord ;  I 
often  wish  that  my  John  had  a  call.  What  an 
advantage  to  be  the  wife  of  a  true  minister !" 

"  I  fe(!l  it  to  be  so ;  but  you  must  not  forget 
how  rebellious  we  are  by  nature,  and  how 
dissatisfied  we  are  apt  to  become  at  times. 
When  I  am  here  alone  thinking,  I  often  won- 
der why  so  much  money  and  labor  should  bo 
required  for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  •  why 
there  should  be  so  m  uch  running  to  and  fra ;: 
why  such  crowds  of  preachers,  and  why  so- 
many  voices  to  make  known  that  which  our 
presumption  says  ought  to  be  as  free  as  air ; 
but  these  are  unworthy  thoughts.  Who  can 
understand  the  way  of  the  Lord  2 

'  IIovv  beauteous  are  their  feet  >  • 

Who  stand  on  Zion's  hill, 
Who  brint;  salvation  on  their  tongues 
And  words  of  peace  reveal.' 

Oh!  this  reminds  mo  of  the  great  meeting 
we  shall  soon  have  in  Exeter  Hall." 

"Exeter  Hall? — to  be  sure,"  said  another 
in  delighted  surprise ;  "  yes,  next  month,  you, 
know,  will  l)ring  the  anniversary  of  the  great. 
Bible  Societv." 


18 


EXETER    HALL. 


i 


i 

i 


■    rl 


Half  a  dozen  sisters  now  became  most  pleas- 
ingly excited,  and  concentrated  a  look  of  in- 
quiry at  Mrs.  Baker.  Mrs.  Manners  forgot 
auglit  else  at  the  moment,  and  exclaimed: 

"Yes,  that  will  be  a  great  meeting,  that 
will  be  a  blessed  time ;  eternity  alone  can  tell 
of  the  good  works  of  Exeter  Hall !" 

"Well,"  continued  Mrs.  Baker,  "I  have 
heard  that  our  next  meeting  there  is  to  be 
something  wonderful,"  and  she  was  now 
the  ol)ject  of  a  rapturous  stare  from  all 
present.  "  The  last  time  our  district  chairman 
was  here,  he  told  me  that  native  missionaries, 
I  think  he  said  from  a  plrce  called  Tongata- 
boo,  were  expected  ;  and  that  a  Chief  from  the 
Feejees,  who  but  a  few  months  ago  was  as 
wild  as  a  Turk,  is  to  appear  in  his  curious 
dress  and  with  his  horrid  weajMins,  and  ho  is 
to  talk  to  us  in  his  native  language." 

"Won't  that  be  interesting?"  said  a  de- 
Jighted  sister ;  "  how  I  wish  they  would  make 
him  perform  one  of  his  war  dances  ;  it  would 
give  one  an  idea  of  how  savage  they  were  by 
nature." 

"  Indeed,  it  would,"  replied  several. 

"You  remember,"  said  Mrs.  Baker,  "that 
last  year  we  had  a  most  interesting  missionary 
meeting.  I  do  like  them  meetings  the  best ; 
I  almost  forget  now  all  the  strange  things 
which  we  heard  and  saw.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber, sister  Manners,  the  ugly  idols  that  the 
black  man  took  out  of  a  bag  V  What  a  lot  of 
big  and  little  ones  there  was !  You  remember 
the  war-clubs,  and  the  tomahawks,  and  the 
horrid  scalps,  and  what  the  big  Indian  said 
about  fire  water,  something  worse  than  vit- 
riol I  suppose,  and  about  drinking  blood  ?  I 
thought  it  very  interesting.  What  a  dread- 
ful state  these  poor  creatures  must  be  in  with- 
out the  Gospel !  We  must  all  pray  that  the 
chariot  wheels  of  the  Lord  may  move  faster. 

'  Lord  over  all,  if  thon  hast  made, 

Ilast  ransomed  every  sonl  of  man, 
Why  is  fliy  prace  so  long  delayed  f 
Why  unfulfllled  the  savinn;  plan  ? 
f.  .    ■      The  bliss  for  Adam's  race  designed 

When  will  it  reach  to  all  mankind  ?' ' 

"  Well,  it  is  a  mystery  why  saving  gr»ce  is 
80  long  delayed,  and  poor  sinners  suffered  to 
perish.    Lord,  hasten  thy  coming!" 

Just  as  Mrs.  Baker  finished  speaking,  the 
rattle  of  wheels  was  heard  at  the  door ;  she 
hurriedly  went  toward  the  window,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  As  I  live,  here  is  Mr.  Baker  and  the 
new  preacher." 

In  a  moment  Mrs.  Mannors  and  every  sister 
in  the  room  made  a  rush  to  the  window. 
Sure  enough,  there  was  Mr.  Baker,  home  be- 
fore his  expected  time,  and  with  him  the  per- 
son above  all  others  in  whom  Mrs.  Mannors 
for  a  special  purpose  felt  most  interested. 

"  Why,  bl(;ss  me,  sister  Baker,"  cried  Mrs. 
Mannors,  ".  but  this  is  providential !  Praise 
the  Lord  for  all  his  mercies!  Who  would 
have  thought  it  V"  And  as  she  quickly  rubljed 
her  hands  in  actual  delight  in  response  to  the 
rushing  thoughts  of  sure  and  certain  victory, 
she  again  exclaimixl,  "Thisw  providential!" 

The  sisters  stood  around  as  Mr.  Baker  enter- 
ed ;  he  did  not  come  empty-handed.  He  car- 
ried two  baskets,  which  he  said  contained  pres- 
ents from  some  of  the  brethren.    The  young 


man  followed,  and  was  introduced  to  the  assem- 
bled sisters  as  "  Brother  Capol."  Then,  in- 
deed, there  was  a  shaking  of  hands.  Mrs. 
Mannors  was  the  very  first  to  dash  at  the 
young  preacher,  and  was  so  rejoiced  that  were 
she  to  have  followed  the  strong  impulse  which 
almost  controlled  her,  she  w  )uld  have  saluted 
him  with  her  lips ;  as  it  was,  he  had  a  narrow 
escape,  and  one  might  judge  from  his  looks 
that  he  actually  thought  so.  The  other  ladies 
followed  in  turn,  and  on  the  whole  he  was,  no 
doubt,  not  a  little  surjmsed  at  the  warmth  of 
his  reception  and  at  the  number  of  "  motliers 
in  Israel"  who  were  present  to  meet  him. 

It  was  evident  at  once  that  his  appearance 
told  much  in  his  favor.  He  was  of  middle 
height,  his  hair  was  nearly  black  and  in- 
clined to  curl,  his  eye  was  dark,  but  Avithout 
any  vicious  ray ;  his  cheek  was  red,  and  its  color 
was  now  much  heightened  by  his  peculiar 
reception.  The  expression  of  his  face  was 
mild  and  pleasing,  and  though  his  manner 
was  somewhat  diliident,  ho  was  sufficiently  at 
ease,  even  before  so  many  ladies,  to  reply  with 
readiness  to  their  inquiries. 

Mr.  Baker  himself  was  no  way  surprised  at 
the  number  present ;  he  took  it  as  a  matter  of 
course ;  he  knew  that  the  class  met  at  his 
house  on  that  day,  and  that  Jlrs.  Baker's  soi 
cial  afternoons  were  not  few  and  far  between. 
Indeed,  as  his  wife  had  no  children  to  take 
care  of.  he  rather  preftjrred  that  she  should 
thus  enjoy  herself  in  his  absence.  Although 
a  matter  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  penpe  was  of 
as  much  conseqv.ence  to  him  as  to  most  other 
householders,  yet  he  lost  nothing  by  the  hos- 
pitality of  his  wife  ;  none  of  her  visitors  ever 
hesitated  to  bring  a  parcel  of  something  use- 
ful or  necessary  in  domestic  matters,  and  very 
often  his  table  was  in  this  way  quietly  and 
abundantly  replenished,  even  with  the  addi 
dition  of  sundry  delicacies  so  agreeable  to  the 
palate  of  ladies  in  general.  He  therefore  felt 
as  little  discomposed  as  a  man  could  be  under 
the  circumstances ;  he  rather  derived  a  kind 
of  satisfaction  from  the  knowledge  that  his 
wife  could  make  herself  the  centre  and  attrac-# 
tion  of  her  class.  In  the  most  blaiitl  and  cor- 
dial manner  lie  addressed  a  lew  words  to  each 
sister,  answered  some  unimportant  inquiries, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  ladies  resumed  their 
conversation,  while  Mr.  Baker  and  his  friend 
retired  to  partake  of  refreshment. 

The  Rev.  James  Baker  had  long  been  a 
preacher  in  the  Methodist  connection.  He 
was  now  over  sixty  years  of  ag(',  nearly  thirty 
of  which  were  spent  as  an  itinerant.  He  was 
a  thin,  delicate-looking  man  ;  his  iron-gray 
hair  and  sallow,  beardless  face,  with  such  a 
hard,  worn  expression,  might  lead  one  to 
think  that  he  was  an  invalid  ;  but  soon  as  he 
began  to  converse  on  a  favorite  to])ic — Method- 
ism— ho  would,  as  it  were,  warm  up,  his  eye 
would  kindle  with  a  peculiar  light,  and  you 
could  then  perceive  that  he  posscsRed  great 
energy  of  character,  and  that  sullicient  physi- 
cal power  was  not  at  nil  wanting.  H(i  was  an 
active,  untiring  preacher,  and  went  through 
the  laborious  duties  of  his  circuit  with  pimctu- 
ality  and  faithfulness.  There  was,  in  his  ojiin- 
ion,  nothing  equal  to  Methodism  ;  it  was  that 
alone  which  could  meet  the  religious  require- 


•  ^ 


EXETER    HALL. 


t9 


ho  asspm- 
Then.  in- 
(Is.  Mrs. 
ill  at  the 
that  were 
Ise  which 
e  saluted 
a  narrow 
his  looks 
her  ladies 
e  was,  no 
armth  of 

mothers 
him. 

ipearance 
if  middle 

and  in- 

withoiit 
d  its  color 

peculiar 
face  was 
»  manner 
ciently  at 
eply  with 

rpriscd  at 
matter  of 
let  at  his 
aker's  so^ 

between. 
1  to  take 
10  should 
Although 
npe  was  of 
lost  other 

the  hos- 
itors  ever 
hinjT  use- 
,  and  very 
lietly  and 
the  addi- 
ible  to  the 
refore  felt 
I  be  under 
id  a  kind 
)  that  his 
nd  attrac-* 
J  and  cor- 
;l9  to  each 
inquiries, 
med  their 
his  friend 

[T  been  a 
tion.  lie 
rly  thirty 
He  was 
iron-offay 
h  such  a 
d  one  to 
ion  as  he 
-Method- 
[1,  his  eye 
,  and  you 
sed  great 
mt  pliysi- 
le  was  an 

through 
li  punctu- 
1  his  ojiin- 

was  that 
s  require- 


•  ^ 


ments  of  the  age.  He  did  not  believe  in  the 
efficacy  of  any  system  wliich  only  re(iuired 
that  a  modern  ajwstle  should  preach  l)ut  on 
one  rtay  «>f  the  week  and  let  the  other  days 
take  care  of  themselves.  Every  one,  he 
thought,  who  had  a  call  to  preach,  should  be 
at  the  work  as  long  as  he  could  get  a  sinner  to 
syind  before  him.  The  Established  Church 
he  looked  upon  as  a  ra])aciou8  monster,  burrow- 
ing out  tlio  vitality  of  the  Gospel ;  and  he  al- 
ways felt  indignant  when  certain  servile 
prominent  Methodist  ministers  would  obseciui- 
ously  pander  in  public  to  its  spiritual  lord- 
sliips,  and  assert  that  the  National  Church 
was  "  the  strongest  bulwark  of  our  beloved 
Protestantism."  It  was,  in  his  opinion,  no  bet- 
ter tlian  downright  popery. 

He  had  a  show  of  toleration  for  some  of  the 
minor  sects ;  but  he  considered  Presbyterian- 
ism  as  a  creed,  cold,  fornxal,  add  lifeless ;  moral 
in  its  aspect,  but  deaden  .g  in  its  influence. 
Methodism  was  the  all  m  all  to  him  ;  he 
could  dwell  for  hours  on  the  virtues  of  "  our 
founder,"  John  Wesley,  and  ho  believed  that 
no  man  since  the  days  of  St.  Paul  ever  equaled 
the  curate  of  Wroote.  The  Methodist  body 
was,  therefore,  the  "  salt  of  the  earth,"  and  its 
ministers  were  destined  to  be  the  true  apostles 
of  the  world.  On  doctrinal  points,  ho  \jas 
a  resolute  stickler  for  Arminian  views  ;  he  had 
a  leaning  to  controversy,  in  which  he  was  ex- 
pert ;  and  it  always  gave  him  particular  pleas- 
ure to  harass  an  opponent  into  an  admission  of 
the  scriptural  views  of  the  venerable  Wesley. 

Such  was  Mr.  Baker  as  a  preacher ;  ho  was 
unwearied  in  his  work  ;  and  now,  as  that  work 
was  becoming  too  extended,  the  timely  assis- 
tance of  his  younger  brother  in  the  ministry 
would  be  the  means  of  supplying  every  call 
on  the  circuit.  Of  Mr.  Capel  he  had  lieard 
the  best  accounts.  He  was  recommended  as  one 
"  holding  fast  the  form  of  sound  words,"  and 
who  would  be  an  example  to  believers  "  iu 
word,  in  conversation,  in  charity,  in  spirit,  in 
faith,  in  purity  ;"  ho  therefore  had  no  doubt 
but  that  there  would  be  a  great  extension  of 
their  beloved  Methodism  ;  and  that  their  ef- 
forts to  "  win  souls"  would  be  sure  to  pros- 
per. 

Mrs.  Mannors  could  not  now  forget  one  of 
the  main  objects  of  her  visit ;  and  as  soon  as 
an  opportunity  olFercd,  she  made  known  her 
desire  to  Mr.  Baker,  and  he  admitted  that  suc- 
cess might  follow  the  adoption  of  her  plan ; 
but  he  would  not  be  too  hopeful.  It  was,  how- 
ever, a  peculiar  failing  of  his — in  common 
with  most  Christian  ministers — that  he  could 
never  exercise  sutticieut  patience  to  contend 
or  even  reason  with  any  person  of  skeptical 
views ;  he  thought  such  opinions  the  best 
proof  of  the  wickedness  and  |)resurai)tion  of 
the  human  heart,  and  that  no  man  who  was 
not  both  vile  and  stupid  could  for  a  moment 
re:^ist  the  overwhelming  evidences  in  favor  of 
divine  revelation.  He  therefore  kept  aloof 
from  all  such  persons,  doubtful  alike  of  their 
honor  or  honesty  ;  and  during  the  period  lie 
had  been  in  charge  of  his  present  circuit,  he 
rarely  visited  Heath  Cf)ttage,  and  scarcely  ever 
addressed  Mr.  Mannors  beyond  a  few  words  of 
ordinary  politeness,  lljion  consideration,  how- 
ever, he  was  pleased  with  what  Mrs.  Manno's 


had  suggested ;  for  he  had  not  as  yet  made 
ai  rangements  as  to  where  Mr.  Cai^el  should 
find  a  temporary  homo  during  his  stay  on  the 
cin'uit. 

The  itinerant  systenit^  of  the  Methodist  re- 
quires that  a  preacher  (Aall  be  regular  in  his 
ministrations,  according  to  what  is  called  a 
"  plan ;"  and  in  the  course  of  a  month  the 
greater  part  of  the  time  is  spent  in  traveling 
from  place  to  place,  preaching  often  two  or 
three  times  a  day.  Tlie  remainder  of  the 
period  may  be  spent  officiating  at  or  near 
home ;  and  during  that  time,  with  younger 
preachers,  they  are  required  to  attend  to  certain 
prescribed  studies  preparatory  to  ordination, 
which  rite  is  not  conferred  until  about  the  end 
of  the  fourth  year  from  the  time  of  their  ad- 
mission as  itinerants ;  nor  are  they  members 
of  Confei'ence  until  after  that  period. 

"  My  dear  sister,"  said  Mr.  Baker,  "  I  see 
no  difficulty  in  making  the  arrangement.  Mr. 
Capel  has  left  himself,  as  it  were,  in  my  hands, 
to  locate  him  where  I  may  ;'wo  will  speak  to 
him  at  once,  and  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  in 
the  course  of  a  few  days,  if  your  worthy  hus- 
band should  not  object,  you  will  find  him 
dwelling  beneath  your  roof." 

"  You  should  know,  brother,"  replied  Mrs. 
Mannors  with  a  little  warmth,  "  that  I  would 
not  have  made  such  a  proposal  if  I  anticipated 
any  objection  from  my  husband.  To  do  him 
justice,  he  does  his  best  in  most  respects  to 
contribute  to  my  happiness;  he  never  inter- 
feres witli  any  arrangement  I  choose  to  make ; 
neither  does  he  offer  to  limit  what  I  may  de- 
sire to  give  for  the  support  of  the  Gospel. 
He  is  truly  kind — I  might  almost  say  good, 
were  it  not  for  his  unbelief — ^and  I  therefore 
long  for  his  conversion." 

"  My  opinion  is,  sister,  that  your  husband 
has  sense  enough  to  know  that  you  are  right, 
and  that  he  is  wrong  ;  were  it  not  for  this,  he 
would  oppose  you.  If  he  were  honest  iu  his 
convictions,  he  would  resist ;  and  his  conduct 
toward  you  is  but  a  plain  proof  of  human  de- 
])ravity.  While  he,  like  many  others,  boast- 
fully sneers  at  our  faith,  there  are  solemn  mo- 
ments when  his  conscience  bids  him  beware." 

"  I  know  him  to  be  sincere,  brother  Baker ; 
no  man  was  ever  more  true  to  his  belief.  In 
times  past,  I  used  to  accuse  him  of  a  denial  of 
the  truth  ;  I  would  not  do  so  now  ;  he  speaks 
what  he  thinks ;  and  he  still  asserts  that  scarce- 
ly one  at  the  present  day  can  be  truly  liberal 
or  tolerant  who  remains  bound  to  any  of  the 
principal  sects  of  Christianity.  I  may  profess 
what  I  like ;  he  would  not  interfere  with  me 
if  my  happiness  consisted  in  a  worsliip  of 
Juggernaut." 

Notwithstanding  this  generous  defense  of 
her  husband,  Mr.  Baker  was  not  convinced. 
He  would  never  believe  that  an  undisguised 
skeptic  could  be  a  trustworthy  person,  or 
a  good  member  of  society.  He  hatl  no  more 
faith  iu  their  integrity  than  he  had  in  the  do- 
cility of  a  wild  beast ;  nothing  but  the  grace 
of  (iod  could  subdue  the  heart ;  and  a  person 
who,  like  Martin  Manners,  had,  from  a  pious, 
patient  wife,  line  upon  line,  and  precept  upon 
precept,  and  who  could  after  all,  in  semblance 
or  in  reality,  successfully  resist  the  prayers  of 
the  people  of  the  Lord  and  the  promptings  of 


20 


EXETER    HALL. 


.'M 


h 


■  \ 


tho  Divine  Spirit  was  a  person  to  bo  avoided. 
With  such  ho  desired  to  have  neither  inter- 
course nor  communication.  For  this  view  liaii 
ho  not  scriptural  precepts  ? 

"  But  tlioujfli  we  or  an  angel  from  heaven 
preach  any  other  gospel  unto  you  than  that 
wliich  we  have  preaclied  unto  you,  let  him  be 
accursed."  "  If  there  como  any  unto  you,  and 
bring  not  this  doctrine,  receive  him  not  into 
your  house,  neither  bid  him  Ood  speed.  For 
ho  tliat  biddeth  him  God  speed  is  a  partaker 
of  his  evil  deeds."  A  jjerson,  therefore,  lilio 
the  Rev.  James  Baker,  who  thorouglily  wor- 
shiped the  Bible,  could  not  possibly  resist 
the  force  of  such  texts.  He  was  therein  told 
to  "  beware  of  dogs,"  and  like  a  true  believe/ 
ho  acted  accordingly. 

When  the  offer  of  Mrs.  Manners  was  made 
known  to  Mr.  Capel,  he  expressed  himself 
quite  satisfied ;  he  was,  he  said,  in  the  hand 
of  Providence,  ready  to  enter  whatever  door 
was  opened  for  him.  A  few  arrangements 
had  yet  to  be  made,  and  in  the  course  of  tlie 
following  week  he  would  possibly  avail  him- 
self of  her  kind  and  generous  proposal. 

Here,  indeed,  wtis  a  consummation !  Who 
but  tlie  Lord,  thought  good  Mrs.  Mannors, 
could  liave  brought  tliis  thing  to  pass  ?  She 
could  now  return  with  renewed  hojie,  and — a 
thought  struck  her — would  it  not  bo  well  that 
betore  they  departed  that  evening  their  closing 
prayer  should  be  made  to  the  throne  of  grace 
on  behalf  of  her  unconverted  husband  'I  The 
proposal  was  readily  accepted  ;  and  after  thoy 
had  nearly  all  prayed  in  turn,  tlie  closing  ap- 
peal was  made  by  Mr.  Baker,  who,  wliile 
kneeling  erect,  with  closed  eyes  and  extended 
arms,  and  head  thrown  back,  tlius  concluded 
his  petition : 

"  And  now,  O  Lord !  thou  knowest  how  sinful 
and  depraved  we  are  by  nature.  Thou  know- 
est tliat  through  the  fall  of  Adam  we,  his  de- 
scendants, are  but  filth  and  pollution  in  tliy 
sight,  truly  hell-deserving,  and  only  worthy 
of  eternal  banishment  from  thee.  In  thy 
sight  we  are  so  corrupt  that  without  grace 
our  best  actions  are  but  an  abomination.  But, 
blessed  be  thy  name,  thou  hast  provided  a 
ransom  for  us,  oven  in  the  death  of  the  second 
Adam.  For  since  by  man  came  death,  by  man 
came  also  the  resurrection  of  tho  dead ;  and 
now  as  there  is  blood  upon  the  mercy-seat, 
wilt  thou  not  be  appeased  ?  Wilt  thou  not 
again, O  God!  stretch  forth  thy  hand  and  raise 
some  dead  Lazarus  from  the  tomb  ?  We  plead 
for  our  afflicted  sister ;  we  plead  before  thee 
for  the  conversion  of  her  unbelieving  hus- 
band. O  Lord !  break  his  stony  heart.  Un- 
loose the  bands  of  unbelief,  and  set  him  •free. 
Set  his  feet  upon  the  Rock  of  Ages,  and  turn 
his  face  Zion-ward.  For  years  thou  liast  borne 
with  his  rebellion,  and  hast  not  cut  him  off. 
For  years  with  unrelenting  heart  he  has  de- 
nied thee  access,  and  resisted  the  drawings  of 
thy  Spirit ;  and  yet  he  is  out  of  hell,  out  of 
that  abyss  where  neither  hope  nor  mercy  ever 
(jomes.  Then  spare  him,  oh !  spare  him  a  littlo 
longer.  Lengthen  thou  the  day  of  grace. 
But  if,  0  Lord !  in  regard  to  thy  divine  justice, 
thy  Spirit  has  forever  taken  its  fliglit ;  if  now 
he  stands  like  a  condemned  wretch  awaiting 
the  execution  of  thy  sentence,  and  ready  to  be 


i  hurled  over  the  precipice  of  destmction  when 
thi/  sword  falls,  and  when  he  is  lost — forever 
I  lost — and  writhing  under  thy  merited  ven- 
geance with  the  eternal  tortures  of  the  danfhed, 
when  neither  sighs,  nor  tears,  nor  prayers, 
nor  sacrifice  can  move  theo  again  in  his  be- 
lialf,  then,  O  Ood  1  pity,  oh !  pity  our  poor 
afflicted  sister ;  supjwrt  her  while  passings 
through  the  deep  waters,  but  al)ovo  all  things 
enable  her  to  approach  tho  throne  of  grace, 
to  be  reconciled  to  thy  decision,  and  to  ac- 
knowledge tho  purity  of  that  justice  which 
overwhelmed  thine  enemy.  Amt^n,  amen."* 
There  was  a  dismal  pause,  a  feeling  of  awo, 
a  great  silence.  Mrs.  Mannors's  heavy  sobbing 
alone  fell  uixm  the  ears  of  those  kneeling 
around  her,  like  the  tapping  of  a  muffled 
drum  in  a  solemn  dead-march.  But  even 
then,  if  an  angel  could  have  lifted  the  vail  of 
distance,  and  have  exhibited  to  them  the  ob- 
ject of  their  prayerful  solicitude,  Martin  Man- 
nors might  be  seen  with  smiling  face  hand- 
ing bread  to  a  beggar  at  his  gate.  Mary  and 
William  could  be  found  close  by,  and,  like 
their  father,  following  with  pitying  eye  tho 
feeble  steps  of  the  old  mendicant  as  he  moved 
slowly  away.  The  setting  sun  might  be  seen 
as  if  lingering  on  a  distant  hill,  while  part- 
ing beams  in  fading  glory  were  spread  far 
around.  Then  if,  during  the  pause,  the  an- 
gel could  have  touched  the  ears  of  those 
who  had  becm  praying,  the  mellow  voice  of 
Martin  Mannors  could  be  heard  to  exclaim  as 
he  looked  upward  into  the  sunlight,  "  How 
beautiful !  how  beautiful !" — and  tho  poor 
wanderer's  blessing  would  seem  to  brighten 
the  sunbeam  that  now  rested  like  an  aureola 
upon  the  head  of  his  benefactor. 


CHAPTER  V.  ■.'-*» 

After  ^Irs.  Mannors  and  the  other  guests 
had  departed,  Mr.  Baker  and  his  wife  and  Mr. 
Capel  sat  around  the  parlor  fire.  There  was 
a  lull  in  the  conver.«ation,  and  eacli  was  look- 
ing in  thoughtful  silence  at  the  few  half-con- 
sumed coals  that  were  losing  their  fierce  glow 
of  r-xlness  and  getting  every  moment  darker 
and  darker.  Mr.  Baker  appeared  very  refleo- 
tive,  as  if  some  mental  problem  had  to  be 
solved,  and  that  he  was  determined  to  succeed. 
The  expression  of  his  face  changed  very  often 
and  very  suddenly.  His  lips  would  be  com- 
l^ressed,  and  a  rapid  and  peculiar  contraction 
of  the  brow  indicated  a  struggle  of  emotions 
which  one  might  hope  was  rather  unusual. 
He  was  now  very  absent,  and  apparently  lost 
in  a  flurry  of  wild,  conflicting  ideas. 

Mr.  Capel  looked  at  him,  as  if  desirous  of 
making  some  remark,  but  he  noticed  his  ab- 
straction at  a  glance ;  he  therefore  dallied  a 
little  longer  with  his  own  thoughts,  and  went 
hand  in  hand  with  memory  a  long,  long  dis- 
tance. 

*  The  charity  exhihlted  in  tho  above  clerical  prayer 
is  fairly  illuatrated  in  an  extract  taken  Iroiu  au  Amer- 
ican paper, namely:  Rev. Mr. ,  of  Oberlin, Ofeio, 

in  a  recent  prayer  made  the  followinj;  invocation :  '  But 
how  sliall  1  pray  for  the  President  *  O  Lord  1  if  thou 
canst  manage  him,  witliout  crushing  him,  spare  liim. 
Otherwiae,  cruah,  him  1" 


ed. 


A' 


EXETER    HALL. 


81 


tion  when 
; — forovor 
rited  ven- 
jdairihcd, 
•  pray^re, 
in  his  be- 
our  poor 
I  pasHing' 
all  things 
of  grace, 
nd  to  ac- 
ce  which 
amen."* 
g  of  awo, 
y  sobbing 

kneeling 
I  muffled 
But  even 
lie  vail  of 
n  the  ob- 
iftin  Man- 
iice  hand- 
Mary  and 
and,  like 
;  eye  the 
he  moved 
it  be  seen 
hile  part- 
pread  far 
.',  the  an- 

of  those 
r  voice  of 
xclaim  as 
it,  "  How 
the    poor 

brifrliten 
,n  aureola 


ler  guests 
fe  and  Mr. 
rhere  was 
was  look- 
r  half-con- 
ierce  glow 
nt  darker 
ery  refleo- 
lad  to  be 
;o  succeed, 
very  often 
\  be  com- 
uBtraction 
'  emotions 
•  unusual, 
rcutly  lost 

38irou8  of 
od  his  ab- 
duUied  a 
,  and  went 
,  long  dis- 


srical  prayer 
iiu  an  Araer- 
berlin,  Olilo, 
atiou:  'But 
}rd  1  if  thou 
,  Bpare  him. 


But  the  silence  was  suddenly  broken.  "  Be 
ye  not  uiie<iually  yoked  together  with  unbe- 
lievers :  for  what  fellowship  hath  righteous- 
n»;88  with  unrighteouHuoss?  and  what  com- 
munion hath  light  with  darkntseV  aud  what 
<'onc(>ril  hath  Ch^i^*t  witli  Belial  V  or  what  part 
hath  ho  that  bolhsveth  with  an  infidel  T  "  Yes," 
Hiiid  Mr.  Baker,  "  that  woman  is  deceived  ;  she 
huH  been  unequally  yoked,  yet  she  would  now 
sliifld  and  even  hope  for  a  bla»i)hemer  that 
openly  denies  the  Lord  who  bought  him.  I 
can  not  aud  will  not  forever  sympathize  with 
her ;  she  still  clings  to  a  wrtjtch  that  may  yet 
drag  her  down  with  himtodesurvc^d  pi-rdition." 
The  preacher  spoke  with  his  teeth  almost 
chmched,  and  the  nails  of  his  fingers  were 
buried  iu  the  soft  palm  of  his  tightly  shut 
hand. 

Mr.  Capiil  gave  another  earnest  look  at  his 
Buperintendent ;  and  his  eye  turned  immediate- 
ly from  the  dark  frown  that  met  his  view.  The 
individual  befuie  him  was  almost  completely 
changed  from  what  he  had  been  a  short  time 
previously.  The  seemingly  courteous  Christian 
was  now  a  bitter,  viudictive  accuser,  and  the 
zeal  of  intolerance  and  persecution  flashed  in 
his  eager  eye.  His  last  prayer,  uttered  so  af- 
fectingly,  had  brought  tears  f  Jjm  almost  every 
one  present ;  but  with  him,  to  make  such  an 
appeal  was  a  ministerial  faculty.  He  could 
raise  his  supplicating  voice  and  make  others 
Aveep  ;  aud,  strange  to  say,  could  ai  such  mo- 
ments even  wee]j  himself :  yet  his  o\v'n  heart 
would  not  bo  affected ;  while  his  face  was 
bathed  in  tears,  that  vory  heart  could  be  as 
cold  and  as  hard  as  iron. 

"She  need  not  tell  me,"  he  continued,  "of 
his  honor  or  his  honesty ;  ho  is  a  deceiver, 
base  and  black  as  the  father  of  lies,  and  the 
poison  of  his  vile  tongue  will  yet  bring  maay 
to  eternal  ruin.  It  is  hard  to  pray  for  such 
an  enemy.  W^ould  it  not  be  better  for  the 
church  of  Ood  that  a  visitation  swift,  sudden, 
and  destructive  should  bury  such  an  aiwstate 
in  his  own  sin,  and  be  another  signal  warn- 
ing to  the  black  brood  of  scoffers  increasing 
around  us?  Would  it  not  be  better  that  some 
of  the  vile  sneering  herd  should  remain  de- 
ceived and  be  swept  away,  rather  than  that 
they  should  remain  to  delude  others  with  eter- 
nal misery  ? 

" '  For  this  cause  God  shall  send  them  a  strong 
delusion  that  they  should  believe  a  lie.  That 
they  all  miglit  be  damned  who  believed  not  the 
truth,  but  had  pleasure  in  unrighteousness.'  " 

"  Brother,"  continued  Mr.  Baker,  "  you  have 
a  ciirious  mission  before  you.  Your  prayers 
must  be  divided  between  a  believer  and  an 
unbeliever.  Y'ou  must  become  a  practiced 
hand  in  dealing  out  spiritual  sympathy  to  sis- 
ter Manuors,  while  you  have  daily  to  confront 
the  infidel  blasphemies  of  her  sneering  hus- 
band. What  do  you  think  of  that?  She,  poor 
simpleton!  imagines  that  you  may  bo  able  to 
influence  a  man  who  would  deny  the  bread  of 
life  even  to  his  own  children — who  would 
leave  their  minds  a  i)erft;ct  blank  as  to  relig- 
ion. Reason  with  him,  indeed !  why,  he  is  and 
has  been  all  reason,  aud  philosophy,  and  com- 
mon sense  ever  since  I  knew  him  ;  yet  these 
worldly-wise-isms  only  leave  him  more  delud- 
ed, and  a  still  more  furious  and  determined 


BcoflTer  at  the  truth.  Y'ou  will  find  none  more 
plausible  ;  he  thinks  that  by  a  show  of  liber- 
ality his  sin  can  be  overlooked ;  it  might  be, 
were  it  only  to  bring  destruction  on  himself; 
but  IfMjk  at  the  iicrnicious  influence  of  his 
teaching,  for  I  have  heard,  alas!  that  srune 
have  even  fallen  away  from  grace,  and  have 
become  confirmed  backsliders  through  hia  vile 
but  honeyinl  words.  Talk  of  educationand  en- 
lightcnmont  and  progress!  would  it  not  bo 
b(!tter  for  the  scuis  of  men  that  gross  ignorance 
of  all  other  things  should  prevail,  rather 
than  that  the  world  sliould  be  depraved  with 
tluit  scum  of  nu)dern  reasoning — Infidelity  V 
Would  it  not  be  better  that  all  secular  know- 
ledge, aud  s(!ience,  and  high  sounding  philoso- 
phy, should  be  completely  lost  to  man,  rather 
than  that  the  knowledge  of  the  true  G'od 
should  be  forgotten  in  the  vain  rush  after  the 
flighty  S])eculations  of  modern  science?  As 
soon  as  w  >  arc  so  weak  and  uncertain  as  to 
submit  our  glorious  gospel  light  and  our 
blessed  faith  to  scientific  investigation ;  as 
soon  as  mo  submit  faith  to  reason,  or  allow 
our  confidence  in  divine  inspiration  to  waver 
in  the  least,  so  soon  may  we  close  the  Bible 
forever,  and  let  the  enemy  of  souls  have  full 
sway." 

Mr.  Baker  here  stood  up  and  commenced 
to  pace  the  room.  He  had  gradually  evoked  a 
feeling  of  Christian  indignation.  The  very 
thought  of  presumptuous  opposition  to  wliat 
he  deemed  the  inspired  word  embittered  his 
spirit  to  such  an  extent  as  to  make  him  al- 
most ready  to  consent  that  ancithcr  fire  should 
be  kindled  in  Smithfield,  rather  than  Protes- 
tant truth  should  suiter.  Unknown  even  to 
himself,  intolerance  was  here  doing  its  work 
in  the  mind  of  one  who  claimed  to  have  been 
regenerated  ;  and  James  Baker,  who  had  a 
strong  belief  that  he  was  chosen  and  called 
to  preach  a  "gospel  of  peace,"  might  now  be 
easily  induced  to  plant  a  stake  and  kindle  a 
faggot  or  buckle  on  a  weapon — A'erily  a  sword 
of  the  spirit — and  become  at  last,  like  a  thou- 
sand others  of  his  calling,  a  fierce  persecutor. 

"JamRS,"said  Mrs.  Baker  quietly,  "I  fear 
that  you  allow  the  carnal  feeling  to  govern 
your  words  sometimes.  Would  you  becoiAo 
the  avenger  of  the  Lord?  Would  you  ask 
assistance  from  Satan  lo  put  down  unbelief? 
If  (iod  is  willing  that  some  should  be  de- 
ceived, or  if  he  is  willing  to  exercise  patience 
and  long-suft'ering  with  such  as  are  puffed  up 
in  their  own  vain  imaginations,  shall  man  do 
less  ?  We  have  been  furnished  with  weajjons 
for  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  that  the  Evil 
One  will  never  use — weapons  that  are  sure  to 
overcome.    Have  we  not  prayer  and  faith  ?" 

"  Very  true,  wife,  very  true.  I  admit  that  I 
am  sometimes  rash ;  but  when  I  think  of  the 
labor  I  'undergo  for  the  spread  of  Bible  truth ; 
when  I  think  of  what  is  sacrificed  in  missions ; 
•.vhen  I  think  of  the  years  which  I  and  others 
have  spent  in  the  ministry,  calling  sinners  to 
repentance,  and  then,  may  be,  when  we  fancy 
our  harvest  is  ready,  in  rushes  some  midnight 
plunderer  and  destroys  our  prospects.  It  is 
perhaps  wrong  to  be  too  impatient  in  ^ch 
matters;  but  who  can  justly  tolerate  crime? 
Yes,  patience  may  be  necessary ;  but  who  can 
submit  to  the  presumption  of  gross,  palpable 


EXETER    HALL. 


ill 


\r    1 


•Ml 


error  ?  I  can  not  help  believinjf  that  our  prc- 
HCnt  laws  are  far  too  Imlcnt ;  tlio  fnitli  nltould 
bo  more  rijridly  upheld  ;  there  shonld  be  some 
det«?rmined  Btop  put  to  the  open  diHwrnina- 
tion  of  pa^an  erro#;  there  Hhould  bo  some 
stern, '  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  further.' 
Our  nation  can  not  surely  prosper  while  wicked 
men  are  allowed  to  beguile  others  away  from 
the  truth.  Reason  and  liberalism  are  now 
rampant  all  over  the  land,  desiMiiling  the  pious 
efforts  of  centuries.  They  must  be  tramped 
out.  To  be  plain,  if  coercion  is  necessary  to 
enforce  the  laAvs  of  erring  man,  how  much 
more  requisite  is  it  thus  to  enforce  the  man- 
dates of  a  just  and  jealous  God  '>.  Arc  we  not 
liable  to  incur  his  divine  wrath  by  our  ajjathy, 
our  forbearance,  or  our  so-called  toleration  V" 

"My  dear  brother,"  said  Mr.  Capel,  "let 
the  wicked  man  and  the  scoffer  and  the  wor- 
shiper of  the  glory  of  this  world  remain  in 
the  fortress  of  their  own  strength.  The  Lord 
has  promised  to  conquer  all  his  adversaries, 
and  he  will  do  so  in  his  own  ^  wd  time.  Has 
ho  not  said  that  'kings  shall  fall  down  be- 
fore him,'  and  that  '  all  nations  shall  serve 
him'?  and  have  we  not  an  abundance  of 
precious  promises  in  his  word  of  how  he  is  to 
overcome  the  world,  and  does  he  not  bid  us  to 
be  of '  good  cheer'?  Then,  brother,  let  us  wait ; 
we  have  our  allotted  work  to  perform ;  let  us  be 
faitjiful,  and  God  will  not  be  forgetful  of  his 
waiting  saints.  The  Lord  still  says,  '  I  have 
sworn  by  myself;  the  word  is  gone  out  of  my 
mouth  in  righteousness  and  shall  not  return, 
that  unto  me  every  knee  shall  bow,  every 
tongue  shall  swear.'  With  these  blessed 
words,  who  can  doubt  ?  Let  the  heathen  rage, 
and  let  the  world  scorn  us  as  it  may,  what  is 
erring.presumptuous  man  before  Omnipotence? 
He  says,  '  Ask  of  me,  and  I  shall  give  thee  the 
heathen  for  thine  inheritance,  and  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth  for  thy  possession.' 
'  Thou  shalt  break  them  with  a  rod  of  iron  ; 
thou  shalt  dash  them  in  pieces  like  a  potter's 
vessel.'  'Evil  doers  shall  be  cut  off;  but 
those  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  inherit 
the  earth.'  These  are  assurances  that  should 
make  us  patient.  I  have  no  fear,  brother  ;  a 
good  work  will  yet  be  accomplished,  and  truth 
must  prevail." 

Mr.  Baker  already  felt  that  he  had  shown 
Symptoms  of  indiscreet  zeal  before  his  co- 
worker. He  now  appeared  more  satisfied. 
He  was  again  reassured,  and  his  wonted  confi- 
dence returned.  He  was  much  pleased  with 
Mr.  Capel's  words  and  modest  remarks,  and, 
like  him,  he  was  again  willing  to  trust  in  the 
Lord  rather  than  in  the  arm  of  flesh. 

"  Brother,"  said  he,  "  I  have  been  in  the 
vineyard  of  the  Lord  for  a  long  time.  I  have 
often  witnessed  the  closing  scenes  of  life  and 
the  final  triumph  of  many  of  the  people  of 
God.  I  have  seen  them,  while  languishing.in 
their  Inst  moments,  bear  witness  for  the  truth. 
Then,  again,  I  have  seen  men  once  strong  in 
the  faith  fall— oh !  to  what  a  depth— and 
pass  away  forever  in  the  whirlwind  of  un- 
belief. How  mysterious  are  the  dealings  of 
the  Almighty !  'Why  are  millions  still  left  in 
darkness  tc  perish  for  lack  of  knowledge? 
Why  is  unbelief  yet  allowed  to  prevail? 
Why  are  not  all  saved?    What  a  number  of 


enemies  wo  have  around  ns  !  What  traitors 
we  meet  on  all  sides !  And  those  we  h  .ive  most 
to  dread  prof(>s8  to  belong  to  the  houHehold  of 
faith,  to  b<Oieve  in  the  written  word,  yet  bring 
it  into  contempt.  Alas!  how  the  infidel  can 
laugh  at  Christianity.  Crowds  of  believers, 
and  crowds  contending  for  forms  and  cere- 
monies and  precedenc(\  Kome  anathematiz- 
ing Kngland,  and  England  gloating  over  tho 
degradation  of  Rome — one  desiring  to  usurp 
over  the  other.  The  Bo-calle<l  Christian 
church  is  a  mystery  to  many.  Who  are  its 
members.  Are  the  numerous  sects  Avhich  bit- 
terly denounce  each  other  deserving  of  that 
distinction  ?  Are  the  emissaries  of  the  Po- 
])i8h  system  of  delusion  and  superstition  to  be 
acknowledged  as  such  ?  t^honld  the  credu- 
lous slaves  of  its  Greek  sister  be  set  down  as 
members?  What  are  we  to  call  these  who 
allow  the  rai)acioufl  apostles  of  our  wealthy 
Church  Establishment  to  rule  over  them? 
Shall  we  include  as  members  all  who  cling  to 
Presbyterian  morality  and  its  election  and 
reprobation?  How  are  wo  to  designate  the 
exclusionists  of  close  communion  and  immer- 
sion ?  What  are  Unitarians,  and  Trinitarians, 
and  Quakers,  and  Dunkers,  and  Universalists, 
and  the  fifty  otl^r  sects  to  be  called  ?  Who 
are  the  real  exponents  of  the  true  faith? 
There  are  sectaries  of  every  degree,  many  of 
whom  have  in  turn  routed  and  jiersecuted 
each  other,  all  claiming  to  be  memb«>r8  of  the 
true  church,  yet  nearly  all  difllring  widely  in 
what  many  of  tliem  deem  essentials.  We 
may  talk  as  we  like  about  unity  of  spirit. 
Some  think  there  may  be  unity  in  diversity, 
and  diversity  in  unity;  but  experience  goes  to 
l)rove  disunity  in  contending  bodich,  and  a 
leaven  of  bitter  jealousy  working  through 
the  whole.  The  Evangelical  Alliance  prom- 
ised great  things  at  Exeter  Hall ;  but  where  is 
the  fulfillment  ?  And  what  is  our  own  Metho- 
dism ?  it  is  not  at  the  present  day  what  it 
once  was,  the  most  scriptural  of  all  systems. 
It  is  not,  alas!  what  it  ought  to  be.  Look, 
brother,  at  our  aspiring  men,  and  at  our  con- 
nectional  hankering  and  ambition.  Our  Con- 
ference is  aiming  for  power  and  influence,  and 
wishes  to  make  its  oft  assumed  authority  felt 
and  recognized  outside  of  its  own  proper  lim- 
its. I  feel  that  Methodism  is  fast  drifting 
down  to  worldliness,  and  that  it  will  soon  bo 
another  synonym  for  pomp  and  vanity.  Its 
love  for  money  is  unspeakable." 

"  My  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Baker,  "  we  all 
know  that  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  rend  the 
heart ;  God  alone  can  do  that.  Afpiring  men 
have  no  doubt  entered  among  us,  and  have 
caused  heart-burnings  and  divisions  ;  but 
when  we  know  that  Satan  himself  will  some- 
times appear  like  an  angel  of  light  to  gain  his 
own  ends,  when  we  find  pretended  friends 
in  our  midst,  our  duty  then  is  to  be  more  faith- 
ful ourselves.  Methodism  is  God's  right  hand 
in  the  salvation  of  men ;  it  is  a  rock  of 
strength :  though  it  has  enemies  within  and 
without,  and  though  many  on  the  side  of 
Church  and  dis.sent  would  unite  to-morrow  for 
its  downfall,  let  us  not  fear,  but  say — 

'  Come,  glorious  Lord,  the  rebels  spnm ; 
Scotter  thy  foes,  victorious  King ; 


■4 


EXETER    HALL. 


I 


And  Oath  ^tid  Askclon  shall  mourn. 
Ami  iiil  'tu;  cons  <»r  God  Bhull  *ln;{.' 

"Weill,  li't  ilicm  rejoiro  whin  it  happens. 
No  doubt  Saf..Ji  would  rfjoicii  overtho  down- 
fall of  our  luiiovcl  WiHleyanism  alHo.  Yos, 
wife,  I  know  som»!  of  those  8iK)utinpf  Protes- 
tants— rank  dirtscntrrs,  too — who  profess  to  be 
ready  to  join  hands  witli  us  for  the  conversion 
of  wild  Indians,  or  for  a  crusade  ajjainst  Knjj- 
lish  or  Romish  Popery,  and  who,  uncler  the 
pretense  of  Christian  love,  will  meet  and  coun- 
sel and  pray  with  us,  and  who  yet  would  at  the 
same  time  (five  us  a  stab  in  the  dark  if  a 
chance  offered.  Yes,  1  know  them  ;  they  will 
fraternize  with  us  on  a  publig  pliitfi)rm,  they 
will  make  >;reat  speeches  about  tlie  poor 
heathen,  and  about  missions,  and  Bibles,  and 
tracts,  and  temperance,  and  all  tliat,  but, 
bless  you !  they  are  merely  actinj; — they  hatt) 
us.  When  reliy-ious  teaeh.'rs  enter  our  pul- 
pits and  dissemble  to  such  an  extent,  wliat 
can  we  evjxvrt  from  Papists  and  unbelievers? 
A  worthy  ohl  brother  once  whisi)er(Hl  to  me, 
when  we  were  seated  tofjether  on  a  missionary 
platform,  and  after  we  had  heard  some  fine 
speeches  and  a  nrreat  display  of  liberal  senti- 
ments from  the  reverend  representatives  of 
various  hostile  denominations  who  took  part 
on  the  fK-casion,  *  Brother,'  said  he, '  I  thought 
I  knew  these  men,  but  I  see  every  man  has 
a  mask,  and  puts  it  on  before  he  addresses  the 
people.'     He  had  them  that  time." 

Just  then  there  was  a  rap  at  the  door  and  a 
note  was  handed  in  for  Mr.  Baker.  He  tore 
it  open  at  once,  and  after  looking  at  it  a  mo- 
ment read  aloud: 

"  A  meeting  of  the  Hampstead  Branch  Bible 
Society  will  bo  held,  God  willing,  in  the 
Baptist  vJhurch  on  Tuesday  evening  next. 
The  chair  will  be  taken  precisely  at  half-past 
seven  o'clock.  A  full  attendance  is  reouested 
in  order  to  select  delegates  and  to  make  other 
preparatory  arrangements  in  view  of  the 
great  anniversary  meeting  to  be  held  next 
month  at  Exeter* Hall." 

When  Mr.  Baker  read  this  little  epistle,  he 
closed  his  left  eye  and  looked  down  thought- 
fully at  the  floor,  which  he  patted  smartly  at 
the  same  time  with  his  foot.  After  a  few  sec- 
onds' cogitation,  he  spoke  very  slowly,  as  if  to 
himself:  "  In  the  Baptist  Church,  on  Tuesday 
evening  next — very,  very  sharp  practice — 
very."  Tlu^  words  fell  from  his  lips  as  separate 
and  distinct  as  if  there  were  no  possible;  connec- 
tion between  them — as  if  he  had  been  merely 
practicing  an  elocutionary  ntterance. 

"  Now,  brother,"  said  Mr.  Baker,  recovering 
himself,  "  here  is  a  nice  little  plot,  dexterously 
managed  and  arranged,  to  ket»p  us  as  a  body 
in  the  background  ;  and  I  think  we  are  also 
indebted  to  the  su])ineness  and  extra  liberality 
of  some  of  our  wise  memliers  for  such  a  very 
agreeable  invitation.  If  this  is  not  a  happy 
illustration  of  the  sectarian  jealousy  which 
we  were  just  deploring,  it  is  a  very  forcible 
one,  and  not  at  all  pleasant  to  my  feelings.  I 
can  see  through  it.  They  have  made  a  cat's 
paw  of  the  Bai)tists  to  put  the  Meth'  dists  on 
the  shelf — tiuifs  it.  I  understand  the  manceu- 
vre.  I  can  see  the  Presbyterian  finger  in  the 
pie  just  as  jdainly  as  I  can  see  that  table.  If 
you  want  a  i)lotter  of  the  right  kind,  give  ine 


one  of  your  moral,  nnooth-faced  Free-Church- 
men, one  who  wears  a  continual  smile,  jiist  as 
attractive  to  some  as  the  glittt  f  of  a  seri^nt's 
eye  to  a  foolish  bird.  A  first-class  wire  pull»'r 
always  smiles;  he  wears  an  appearance  of 
great  candor,  but  he  always  keeps  in  the 
background  and  will  not  show  his  hand  if  he 
can  help  it.  He  holds  the  wjres;  for  instance, 
he  pulls  one  for  the  Baptists,  and  another  for 
the  Inde[)endent8,  and  one  for  some  other  sect 
or  creature  willing  to  fall  in  with  the  rest ; 
and  this  is  what  we  find  the  Ilev.  Andrew 
Campbell  of  the  Free  Church  has  just  been 
doing.  He  has  burrowed  pretty  deep  and 
thinlis  to  hide  himself;  but  I  will  unearth  him. 
and  that  before  he  is  aware  of  it." 

And  Mr.  Baker  rubbed  his  hands  in  eager 
anticipation  of  a  brush  with  his  reverend  an- 
tagonist. 

"  Brother  Capel,"  ho  continued,  "  here  is  a 
plain  case  of  jealousy  and  disstimbling  on  the 
part  of  a  man  who  claims  to  be  the  pastor  of  a 
most  exemplary  body  of  Presbyterians.  Last 
year,  a  minister  of  our  Society  was  appointed 
a  delegate  to  represent  our  Branch  Bible  So- 
ciety at  Exeter  Hall.  There  were  murmurs 
as  usual  from  several  of  Mr.  Campbell's  people, 
and  from  some  others  ^»rho  are  always  grum- 
bling at  the  Methodists,  but  he,  worthy  man ! 
appeared  to  be  quite  satisfied ;  jndeed  he  said 
he  would  not  have  select  d  any  other  person 
were  the  choice  left  to  himself  So  far,  so 
good  ;  but  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  a  ru- 
mor was  heard  in  one  place  and  in  another 
that  the  Methodists  had  succeeded  in  gettinpf 
the  meeting  held  in  their  own  church,  and 
that  by  force  of  numbers  a  Methodist  dele- 
gate had  been  chosen  to  display  his  eloquence 
on  the  platform  at  Exeter  Hall.  After  a  little 
inquiry,  I  traced  this  report  direct  to  the  Rev- 
erend man  himself;  there  was  no  chance  for 
his  escape.  And  you  may  judge  of  my  aston- 
ishment when  he  told  me  to  my  face  at  a  com- 
mittee meeting  that  it  was  every  word  true; 
that  he  never  denied  having  said  so,  and  that 
I  and  my  adherents  on  all  occasions  tried  to 
monopolize  certain  positions  before  the  public 
to  the  exclusion  of  better  men.  When  he  told 
mo  this,  he  looked  no  more  shame-faced  than  a 
parson  who  was  pocketing  tithes.  With  such 
a  man,  it  was  useless  to  waste  words.  It 
would  be  very  unseemly  to  contend  with  him 
before  a  committee.  I  withdrew  as  soon  as  I 
conveniently  could,  and  I  have  never  met  him 
since." 

"  The  feeling  that  Mr.  Campbell  has  toward 
us,"  said  Mrs.  Baker,  "has  influenced  many 
others  with  whom  we  were  formerly  on  terms 
of  friendship.  For  instance,  but  a  short  way 
from  this  house  there  are  two  maiden  sisters 
residing  ;  they  used  to  visit  us  very  often,  and 
wo  frequently  went  together  on  missionary 
tours  and  on  tract  collections.  They  were 
never,  to  be  cure,  very  warm  toward  us  as  a  SCK 
ciety,  but  they  never  made  any  unkind  r» 
marks ;  they  are,  however,  members  of  Mr. 
Campbell's  congregation,  and  since  the  occur- 
rence at  the  committee  meeting  they  have 
never  entered  our  door,  and  if  I  happen  to  meet 
them  at  a  Dorcas  meeting  or  at  any  other  place, 
they  merely  give  me  a  formal  bow.  Why, 
bless  you  I  I  never  thought  people  could  he  m 


24 


EXETEK    HALL. 


111 


It 


uncharitable  as  we  now  find  many  of  the  Bap- 
tists and  Presbyterians." 

"  And  what  is  worse,"  urged  Mr.  Balcer, 
"  after  the  discreditable  conduct  of  Cam])l)ell, 
I  tried  to  keep  the  matter  as  quiet  as  possible. 
I  did  not  wish  to  let  it  be  known  around  that 
a  number  of  professing  Christians  who  had 
met  in  order  to  devise  ways  and  means  ^or  the 
circulation  of  the  Scriptures  had,  at  such  a 
meeting,  a  fierce  altercation  ainongthcmselves. 
I  said  as  little  as  I  could  about  it ;  but  the  fol- 
lowing weeli  out  comes  tlxj  Evangelist,  the 
newspaper  or  organ  of  the  Presbyterian  body, 
with  a  communication  denouncing  the  '  shab- 
by tricks'  (this  was  the  expression)  '  of  a  cer- 
tain Methodist  prcacJier,  whom  it  did  not 
nar^e,  and  the  hypocritical  rabble  that  follow- 
ed at  his  heels,'  and  then  it  went  on  retailing 
the  current  scandal  about  the  appointment  of 
a  delegate.  To  this,  I  sent  a  contradictory  re- 
ply, with  c?rtain  exi)lanatlons  which  I  trusted 
would  not  be  oftensiv<^  ;  but  back  came  my 
manuscri])t ;  they  would  not  insert  any  thing  I 
had  written  ;  and  now  to  this  day  we  have  the 
greatest  trouble  to  keep  up  appearances  and 
prevent  another  outbreak  more  scandalous 
than  the  last.  You  know  in  the  course  of  the 
year  there  are  many  occasions  on  which  we 
have  to  meet.  Protestants  of  all  denomina- 
tions, with  the  exception  of  the  High  Church 
party,  profess  to  unite  their  efibrts  at  Bible 
meetings  and  tract  meetings,  and  for  other 
objects  of  common  interest ;  but  lately  I  find 
it  Ixard  work  to  keep  my  temper  among  thom, 
and  were  it  not  that  scoffers  might  triumph  I 
would  enjoy  far  more  peace  of  mind  by  stay- 
ing at  home,  like  our  pious,  prudent  friend, 
the  Bev.  Andrew  Campbell." 

"  Scenes  like  this  you  have  described,"  said 
Mr.  Capcl,  "  I  am  sorry  to  say,  have  been  wit- 
nessed in  other  places  than  this  neighborhood. 
The  very  first  year  I  was  on  a  circuit  we  had 
a  difficulty  nearly  in  the  same  way  with  the 
New  Connection  Methodists  ;  1  hope  never  to 
witness  the  like  again.  What  hapjjcufd 
there  was  a  scandal  to  the  whole  church  for 
months  afterward;  I  would  be  ashamed  to 
mention  even  now  all  that  occurred." 

"  You  need  not  tell  me,  brother ;  I  think  I 
know  it  just  as  Avell  as  if  it  Avas  written  for 
me :  but  I  tvM  you  now  that  before  you  are 
much  older,  you  are  likely  to  b(!  ])resent  at  a 
Bcene  which  may  altogether  surpass  any  you 
have  yet  witnessed.  We  shall  see  wh(>tlier 
this  sleek,  jealous,  undermining  calumniator 
can  do  as  he  plenwes,  even  i)rotected  as  he  will 
be  by  the  streannng  walls  of  a  Baptist  Con- 
venticle, lie  no  doubt  has  had  cn-cry  Presby- 
terian and  Ba])tist  and  Congregationalist  with- 
in his  reach  warned  to  atteiul ;  but  we  can 
play  the  same  ganu',  and  in  a  way  that  will 
open  their  eyes  and  nu\ke  their  lank  faces  a 
little  loiiger.  We  arc  as  numerous  as  t  iiey 
are  altogether,  an;l  I  think  that  between  this 
and  Tuesday,  we  can  g(>t  a  sufficient  number 
of  our  friends  to  vote  down  any  hostile  resolu- 
tion, and  turn  the  tables  on  them.  What  do 
you  say,  brother?  Don't  you  think  wo  can 
succeed '?" 

Mr.  Capel  was  very  reluctant  to  give  an 
opinion  ;  the  very  idea  of  another  sccuie  was 
not  reliehed  by  him.    He  did  not  wish  to  anti- 


cipate trouble  ;  but  it  was  plain  to  him  that  Mr 
Baker  was  determined  to  enter  a  contest  and 
to  drag  him  into  it  also.  IIo>y  was  he  to  es 
cape  from  this?  The  thought  of  going  to  a 
public  meeting  called  for  the  ostensible  pur- 
pose of  promoting  the  circulati«m  of  the  word 
of  God,  and  then  and  there  to  enter  into  all 
the  arrangements  for  a  display  of  sectional 
strife  and  unholy  disunion,  was  pninful ;  it 
was  actually  to  descend  from  his  position  as  a 
preacher  of  peace  to  fraternize  with  men 
who  gave  way  to  angry  feelings.  Hewasvery 
much  perplexed.  In  the  short  period  of  his 
ministerial  career,  he  had  had  sutficient  proof 
of  the  bitterness  and  animosity  that  existed 
betwer^n  sects.  It  was  to  him  astonishing  how 
preachers  and  people  loudly  boasting  of  a  re- 
ligion of  peace  and  love,  preaching  about  the 
"unity  of  the  spirit,"  quoting  texts  about  the 
"  bonds  of  peace,"  and  almost  forever  talking 
and  writing  and  preaching  about  humility  and 
hiu-mony  and  brotherly  love,  and  spending 
time  and  money  in  the  circulation  of  an  in- 
spired book  which  was  said  to  be  suflicient  to 
enlighten  all  to  the  way  of  virtue,  and  to  make 
"the  wolf  and  the  lamb  feed  together,  and 
the  lion  eat  straw  like  a  bullock,"  and  yet 
to  find  these  very  people  who  were  always 
pitying  and  rebuking  the  heathen  and  the  un- 
believing and  the  ungodly,  as  willing  and  as 
ready  on  certain  occasions  to  indulge  hatred, 
engage  in  strife,  and  harlior  malice  as  the  veri- 
est barbarian  !  He  often  wondered  at  the  pomp- 
ous and  exjiensive  display  of  ])hysical  force 
material  by  Christian  nations  and  people,  and 
of  their  readiness  for  battle  and  murder.  Ho 
contrasted  certain  acts  of  so-called  pious  mon- 
archs — the  profuse  shedding  of  human  blood 
— with  those  of  the  rulers  of  even  idolatrous 
people,  and  in  nearly  all  cases  he  was  forced 
to  decide  against  the  cruelty  of  Christian  po- 
tentates, and  to  admit  the  many  proofs  of  tho 
su])erior  si)irlt  and  humanity  of  imperial 
heathenism — the  superiority  of  a  Julian  to  a 
Constantino.  But  to  think  that  the  "  peojjlo 
of  God"  should,  by  "  anger  and  chinior  and  evil- 
speaking,"  degrade  themselves  even  below 
those  that  knew  not  the  Lord  n(U'  his  word  ;  to 
think  that  those  who  op(>]ily  professi^d  re- 
generation should  by  controversial  brawls 
strengthen  the  position  of  th<;  scofl'tT,  was  to 
him  incom])rehcntible.  He  therefore  did  not 
wish  to  attend  such  a  meeting  ;  but  how  was 
he  to  escape  ? 

"  I  v  ill  tell  you  what  I  thiid?,"  said  Mr.  Ca- 
pel, after  some  rcfiection.  "  I  would  far  rather 
let  these  ])eoi)|{!  have  llieir  ,vn  wiiy  than  that 
we  should  follow  in  their  footstejis  and  assist 
in  ].erpetuating  strife.  Of  what  consequence 
is  it  to  us  whether  a  Methculist  or  a  Bajjtist  or  an 
Independent  is  chosen  as  n  delegal(!?  The 
great  cause  of  Christianity  v.  ill  not  sufl'er,  or 
be  more  benefited  one  way  or  other  by  the  re- 
sult. I  therefore  think  tluit  our  wisest  plan 
will  be,  to  let  things  lake;  their  ow  n  course  at 
the  nu>eting,  and  no  doubt  a  greater  good 
will  (iventually  result." 

"  See  here,  brotliiT  Capel,"  re])lied  Mr.  Baker, 
with  assumed  calmness,  "such  sentinu-nts 
mav  do  very  well  witli  persons  who  are  real 
and  true  Christians  ;  tho  course  you  advise 
might  then  be  most  nroper  toward  such  a 


EXETER    HALL, 


25 


tn  that  Mr 
jntest  and 

8  ho  to    t'S 

■ojnjr  to  a 
isible  piir- 
f  the  word 
r  into  all 

Pectional 
minful ;  it 
sitionas  a 
with  men 
e  was  very 
riod  of  his 
ient  proof 
at  existed 
shinghow 
\g  of  a  re- 
about  the 
about  the 
er  talking 
nility  and 
spending 
of  an  in- 
fficient  to 
d  to  make 
'tlier.  and 

and  yet 

0  always 
id  the  un- 
ig  and  as 
yc  hatred, 
IS  the  veri- 
tlie  pomp- 
'ical  force 
?ople,  and 
rder.  Ho 
ious  mon- 
iian  blood 
idolatrous 
as  forced 
list  Ian  po- 
ofs of  the 

imperial 
ilian  to  a 
;  "  peoi)]o 
I"  and  evil- 
tn  below 
word  ;  to 
essed   re- 

1  brawls 
'T,  was  to 
V  did  not 

how  was 

(1  Mr.  Ca- 
I'iir  rather 
tlinn  that 
ind  assist 
secjuenco 
)tiKt  or  an 

10  ?  Th(! 
sufler,  or 
ly  the  re- 
^it'st  plan 
course  at 
tiT  good 

r.  Baker, 

ntimentH 

are  real 

11  advise 
1  such  a 


cla&-» ;  but  r(;inomber  with  whom  we  have  to 
treat,  men  \^  ho  are  continually  endeavoring 
to  bring  oar  cliurch  and  our  discipline  into 
disrepute,  who  are  madly  jealous  of  our  suc- 
cess, and  who  now  try  to  lessen  us  in  the  esti- 
mation of  the  woi'ld. 

"  No  ;  in  this  matter  we  must  have  our  own 
way,  wc  uuiHt  light  them  with  their  own  weap- 
ons— ay,  fight;  the  strongest  will  be  sure  to 
win ;"  and  Mr.  Baker  (juickly  snapped  his 
large  bony  tiujrers  in  defiance. 

"  Well,  as  lor  mysijlf,  brother  Baker,  I  am 
but  a  stranger  here  yet,  and  I  would  not  like 
to  make  my  first  apjiearance  as  a  partisan. 
If,  however,  you  think  it  right  for  me  to  attend, 
I  will  do  so ;  but  it  will  be  rather  to  throw  oil 
on  the  troubled  waters,  shoukl  any  arise,  than 
allow  sectarian  distrust  and  alienation  to 
grow  strouger.  It  may  be  after  all,  brother, 
that  these  people  will  give  us  no  cause  to 
complain." 

"Indeed,  I  hope  not.  It  would  be  a  great 
satisfaction,a  very  agreeable  disapi)ointment, 
werti  I  to  discover  that  a  better  feeling  ex- 
isted; but  I  have  little  hope.of  that.  I  know 
them,  and  1  know  that  tht;  Calvinistic  crowd 
will  show  tlieir  dark  faces  for  a  certainty. 
Yes,  I  am  doubtful  of  Campbell,  and,  as  you 
already  know,  not  without  cause.  And,  friend 
.  Capel,  you  nmst  recollect  that  at  the  ju'cseUb 
day,  wh(!n  W(!  iind  outsiilers  and  the  uncon- 
verted attracted  toward  a  religious  body  as 
much  on  account  of  its  reputed  standing  and 
influence  and  popidarity — even  by  the  size 
and  grandtnir  of  its  (churches — as  by  its  in- 
trinsic y)iety  or  merit,  we  must  be  on  the  look 
out,  and,  in  a  worldly  sense,  catch  all  we  can. 
We  .  nist  not  allow  our  denominational  inter- 
ests to  suffer  through  a  sentimental  diliidence, 
or  a  reluctance  to  enter  the  field  as  couqieti- 
tors.  For  a  denominational  prize,  I  will  nyf. 
shirk  (mroUintuit  as  a  gladiator,  not  I ;  (ireek 
to  Greek,  our  church  against  all  others. 
But,  brother,  wo  \k'ill  talk  this  matter  over  to 
morrow ;  it  is  now  gtitting  late,  and  after  a 
word  of  prayer  we  will  retire." 

When  Mr.  Cai'el  was  left  alone^that  night, 
a  midtitudi!  of  thoughts  crowded  upon  him, 
and  seemed  to  overturn  each  other  in  their 
struggle  for  prectnleiice,  lie  felt  unnerved  l)y 
an  utter  feeling  of  loneliness  and  despondency. 
lie  had  but  lately  left  his  nalivis  country,  Ire- 
land, and  was  now  for  the  first  time  among 
peo])le  coin|>aratively  tmknown  to  him.  His 
fatlu'r  had  been  dead  for  several  years,  and  he 
had  seen  within  the  last  fifteen  months  the  re 
mains  of  his  bi-i>lher  and  mother  conveyed  to 
the  silent  grave  ;  he  had  now  scarcely  a  rela- 
tive living,  and  was  here  thrown  among 
strangers  to  follow  a  line  of  life  not  altogether 
in  accor<lance  with  his  own  feelings,  but  more 
out  of  a  dutiful  complianc;!  with  tin;  earnest 
and  afleetionate  desires  of  a  pious  mother. 
Previous  to  her  death,  he  had  traveled  nearly 
a  year  ou  a  circuit  near  the  city  of  Cork,  in  Ire- 
l.'ind  ;  and  lit.'  had  recently  b(;en  advised  by  cer- 
tain friends  to  oiler  ^is  services  to  the  English 
Conference.  Ho  came  highly  recomnie!i(le<l, 
and  the  district  chairman  being  anxious  to 
Bupply  the  wants  of  a  few  places  on  the  out- 


skirts of  London  sent  Mr.  Capel  for  a  few 
months  under  the  superintendence  of  Mr. 
Baker  until  the  next  meeting  of  Cori'erence. 

No  wonder  then  that  his  thoughts  came  fast, 
f  nd  that,  from  what  he  had  just  heard,  he  was 
nearly  bewildered  with  strange  ideas  about 
contending  sects  and  inconsistent  teachers ; 
about  the  sordid  and  unholy  motives  which 
seemed  to  actuate  preachers  as  well  as  people, 
lie  was  surprised  at  the  v(ihemenco  of  Mr. 
Baker,  with  whom  he  had  but  lately  become 
acquainted.  He  thought  of  the  strange  mis- 
sion that  was  to  be  imposed  on  him  by  a  re- 
sidence at  Heath  Cottage,  and  he  tried  to 
fancy  what  kind  of  a  person  Martin  Manners 
could  bo,  of  whom  Mr.  Baker  spoke  so  bitter- 
ly— of  whose  ill' pure  and  dangerous  senti- 
ments he  had  heard  so  much.  Already  he  be- 
gan to  feel  a  distaste  for  his  mission,  and  a 
prejudice  against  a  jierson  whom  he  had  never 
yet  seen,  and  v/hom  it  was  expected  he  might 
enlighten. 

But  his  own  heart  told  him  that  such  a  pre- 
judice was  unfair,  unmanly,  and  unjust,  and 
he  tried  to  banish  the  feeling  with  all  his 
might.  Ho  dislfked  controversy,  particularly 
when  called  upon  to  combat  opinions  against 
divine  revelation.  He  could  not  rely  upon 
his  own  strength  with  a  wily  adversary.  He 
never  doubted  scriptural  truth  ;  but  even  to 
him,  as  well  as  to  others,  there  were  things  in 
the  Bible  hard  to  be  understood,  but  which 
he  believed  would  be  made  plain  "  in  the 
grt^at  day  of  the  Lord."  He  felt  a  dftep  sym- 
pathy for  Mrs.  Manners  ;  and  in  humble  ccnifi- 
denco  would  strive  to  remove  the  mountain 
of  unbelief  that  overshadowed  her  dwelling. 
He  would  simply  do  his  best  to  establish  di- 
vine truth  ;  and  if  he  failed,  God  would  not 
j  udge  l.m  for  neglect.  lie  would  take  up  this 
cross  ;  and  if  ho  succeeded,  would  he  not  bring 
happiness  to  one  home,  and  would  not  his 
mother  in  heaven  rejoice  with  the  vast  as- 
sembly of  saints  at  the  repentance  of  a  sin- 
ner, and  whose  conversion  he  might  after 
w'ard  claim  as  a  seal  to  his  ministry  ? 

Th(*  mild  moon  was  shining  through  his 
window  as  he  look<^d  out,  and  her  soft,  sympa- 
thizing light  brought  back  the  most  tender 
recollections.  Memory  presented  its  fairest 
pictures,  and  the  dim  scene  in  the  distance  was 
changed  in  imagination  to  his  own  still  loved 
home.  lie  heard  his  mother's  evening  hymn, 
and  again  hr  saw  his  little  tired  brother  sit 
sleeping  by  her  side.  In  imagination  he  stood 
once  more  upon  the  jjleasant  banks  of  the 
river  Lee,  and  wandered  away  among  the 
green  meadows  by  its  margin ;  he  saw  the 
W(dl  known  tall  trees,  and  tlieir  long  shadows 
on  its  shining  water.  He  lookcsd  again  ;  but 
that  home  had  faded  with  the  past ;  the  dear 
ou(!8  had  fled,  and  the  pure  love  of  that  moth- 
er's eye  would  be  seen  no  more  forov(!r.  In 
his  dreams,  that  night  lu!  again  heard  the 
sweet  sounds  of  the  Bells  of  Shandon,  and 
again  he  saw  the  waters  of  the  pleasant  riv- 
er ;  but  before  he  awoke,  he  was  once  more 
standing  and  weeping  by  his  mother's  grave, 
hand  in  hand  with  his  tired  brother,  in  the 
old  churchyard  of  St.  Finn  Bar. 


20 


'f    '"'"N 


EXETER    HALL. 


■ni 


.Ml 


I- 

'.iLi 


t 


CHAPTER  VL 

TnTi  church  in  which  the  Rev.  Andrew 
Campbell  officiated  Avas  situated  on  the  hijjh 
road  between  London  and  Hampstead,  rather 
closer  to  the  city.  Indeed,  speaking  more  cor- 
rectly, it  might  be  said  to  be  within  the  sub- 
urbs* wliich  every  year  stretch  out  farther  and 
farther.  His  pastoral  charge,  however,  includ- 
ed a  veiy  extensive  district  and  extended  to  the 
north  as  far  as  Hampstead.  The  church  was 
therefore  in  a  central  situation,  and  was  very 
convenient  not  only  for  the  regular  ministra- 
tions, but  for  the  occasional  transaction  of 
other  matters  affecting  the  interests  of  the  de- 
nomination to  which  it  belonged.  It  was  also 
a  very  suitable  place  for  clerical  reunions,  and 
for  small  private  meetings  of  such  of  the 
ministers,  elders,  and  deacons  of  other  reli- 
gious bodies  as  understood  each  otiun-,  and  who 
were  prepared  to  fraternize  and  form  a  com- 
pact against  the  encroachments  of  a  sectarian 
enemy.  At  these  quiet  contentions,  a  great 
many  plans  were  matured,  and  w)  t;n  any  im- 
portant object  was  to  be  attained,  a  special 
meeting  could  be  easily  held  at  the  shortest 
notice. 

In  old  times,  to  be  sure,  before  the  establish- 
ment of  Methodism,  the  Presbyterians  in  and 
about  London  formed  a  very  strong  body  of 
Christians,  who,  with  the  additional  force  of 
other  dissenters  and  non-confonnisis  were  often 
very  successful  in  their  attacks  on  the  proud 
pretensions  of  the  Episcopal  C'hurch.  For 
many  years,  the  united  efforts  of  these  bodies 
were  mainly  directed  against  the  Establish- 
ment, which,  like  a  leviathan,  was  confident 
of  its  own  strength,  and  satisfied  with  its  en- 
vied position  as  a  national  institution.  But  in 
the  course  of  time,  when  Methodism  raised  its 
head  and  became  a  power  on  the  earth,  a  "  lit- 
tle horn  which  waxed  exceeding  great,"  those 
bodies  discovered  in  it  an  insidious  and  danger- 
ous intruder;  one  most  liVely  to  attract  tlie 
common  people,  and.  therefore,  more  to  be 
feared  tiia;;  tl>o  ,'>la  State  Church  wliich  was 
fast  losing  ground  in  popular  affection.  The 
great  policy  of  the  Church  Establishnu^nt 
seemed  to  be  the  acquicition  of  wealth  and  po- 
litical power,  and  as  long  as  that  object  was 
secured,  it  was  not  of  so  much  importance  as 
to  the  number  of  its  adherents ;  wealth  and 
power  will  always  attract  followers  enough  to 
secure  for  the  grossest  usurpation  and  tyran- 
ny a  spurious  popularity.  As  long  as  the 
church  had  the  monarch  and  a  mnjority  of  the 
nobility  and  great  men  of  tlu;  nation,  and  as 
long  as  its  status  of  PU])eriority  was  legally  ac- 
kno\vledg(!d,  the  English  hierarcliy  were  ijuite 
indifferent  as  to  the  chimorings  of  disappoint- 
ed and  disaffected  aspirants. 

But  Methodism  was  a  power  that  made  it- 
self felt.  From  small  beginnings,  it  gradii- 
ally  grew  and  gained  strengtli ;  stooping  to 
conquer,  and  leaving  nothing  undone  to  gain 
the  multitude.  At  last  it  strode  out  like  a 
pampered  giant,  lifting  in  its  brawny  arms  first 
the  poor  and  illiterate,  then  impulsive  working 
men  and  traders,  tlu^n  the  more  intelligent 
and  worldly  wise- class  above  ch  ss — until 


finally,  bearing  its  head  aloft,  it  entered  with 
stately  step  the  palace  of  the  people,  and 
placed  its  representatives  on  the  floor  of  the 
imperial  parliament. 

This  was  a  power,  then,  to  be  dreaded.  In 
little  more  than  a  centr«ry.  from  an  insignifi- 
cant sect  it  had  gainea  such  a  footing  in  Bri- 
tain as  to  leave  nearly  ill  other  demuuinations 
completely  in  the  shade.  Churches  that  for 
centuries  had  stood  the  successive  assaults  of 
Popery  and  Prelacy  now  became  more  and 
more  forsaken  and  desolate  ;  and  the  once  popu- 
lar preachers  of  the  metropolis  had  often  to  de- 
liver their  lengthy  and  somniferous  expositions 
to  bare  wal.'-  and  empty  seats,  while  Wesley 
and  Whitfield  were  followed  from  place  to 
place,  and  could  only  accommodate  increasing 
and  excited  multitudes  by  winning  them  to 
Christ  under  the  great  cathedral  vault  of 
heaven. 

It  was  difficult,  indeed,  for  ordinary  human 
nature  to  stand  this.  It  was  not  easy  to  feel 
indifferent,  and  see  your  household  scattered  ; 
to  see  the  children  you  had  nurtured  and 
trained  from  lisping  infancy  ieavc  you  in 
their  sturdy  manhood,  and  give  to  strangers 
the  comfort  and  support  to  which  you  consid- 
ered yourself  entitled  by  the  natural  ties  of 
spiritual  consanguinity. 

But,  it  might  be  said,  what  difference  did  it 
make,  if  the  children  about  whom  you  were 
so  anxious  were  now  receiving  an  abundance 
of  every  thing  necessary,  and  were  plentifully 
supplied  with  bread  of  a  better  quality  than 
that  p(!rhaps  which  you  yourself  had  to  offer  ; 
what  difference  did  it  make  if  you  were  desi- 
rous to  start  them  in  life  with  a  certain 
amount  of  capital,  and  tliat  another  person 
came  forward  and  generously  granted  them  a 
sum  greater  than  your  limited  means  could 
issure — what  was  the  difference  ? 

This  mode  of  reasoning  might  satisfy  some, 
but  if  you  were  doubtful  of  the  <iuiintitv  of 
nutriment  your  children  were  getting  ;  if  you 
vv-^ro  dissatisfied  as  to  the  quality  of  bread, 
I  or  had  discovered  l)y  your  own  testing  that  it 
contained  a  subtle  poison  which  would  pro- 
duce drivelling  idiocy,  or  a  desire  for  d^ath; 
or  if  you  believedlhat  instead  of  their  being 
the  recii)ients  of  a  liberal  allowance,  they 
were  but  meagrely  fed,  and  while  busy,  la- 
boring, handed  to  strangers  tin'  wages  of 
their  toil  wliich  yon  neiidtHl  so  much  yourself; 
if  you  saw  this,  and  could  s(;(!  your  children 
pass  you,  and  even  disown  you,  would  there 
not  lie  a  feeling  of  resentment  against  the 
obtruder  V 

It  was  from  this  stand-point  that  Methodism 
was  judged  by  the  older  sects  to  whicli  the 
peoph?  wtM'e  once  so  much  attached  ;  and  it 
required  more  grac(^  and  patii.'ucc!  than  had 
yet  b(K;n  liestowed  to  become  reconciled  to 
the  rule  of  such  specious  (iretenders. 
Policy,  however,  demanded  great  caution  in 
'  making  an  attack  on  a  system  wliich  had  al- 
ready obtained  such  a  hold  on  the  popular 
mind  ;  the  ajiproaches  sbouid  be  made  with 
secrecy.  It  would  not  do  to  array  powerful 
texts,  and  openly  denounce  its  antisci-iptural 
t(mching8  with  regard  to  idection  and  prede»- 
til  ation  and  backsliding;  it  would  not  do  to 
speak  too  rudely  about  its  unlearned  preach- 


EXETER    HALL. 


2r 


crs  and  their  noisy  haransfucs,  their  pulpit 
shoutinor,  or  their  wild,  alisurd,  and  maddenin}; 
protracted  meetinfrs.  Keliijion  has  at  all 
times  b(ist  succeeded  when  the  feelings  were 
enlisted  in  its  favor  ;  and  if  the  Methodists 
were  so  eminently  successful  by  such  strate- 
gy, a  reserve  in  denouncing  their  peculiar 
niodii  might  be  most  prudent.  In  the  course 
of  time,  the  most  excitable  people  would  begin 
to  reason,  and  reason  would  bring  reflection, 
and  reflection,  even  in  such  matters,  might 
bring  common  sense.  If  a  man  becomes  infat- 
uate(l,  it  Is  not  always  the  best  way  to  set  him 
right  by  force  of  ridicule ;  opportunities  would 
arise  wlwn  a  blow  could  be  struck  without 
observation ;  there  was  even  then  a  Metho- 
dist schism,  several  branches  hcd  been  lopped 
off  tlie  parent  tree,  and  the  disinterested 
hand  of  appan-nt  symjiathy  might  be  extend- 
ed to  these  scions  without  evincing  too  great 
a  desire  to  increase  the  rupture  or  advance  se- 
cession. 

Thus  thought  many  of  the  principal  men 
of  the  older  sects ;  and  they  acted  accord- 
ingly. There  was  the  usual  display  of  cour- 
tesy, pulpits  were  exchanged,  there  were  union 
prayor  meetings,  and  fraternization  at  j^ublic 
meetings  ;  there  was  the  mutual  denunciation 
of  Popery,  and  the  tacit  understanding  against 
the  High  Church  ;  and,  therefore,  while  on  the 
surface  (jvery  thing  looked  calm  and  pleasant, 
there  was  in  reality  a  working  of  deep  de- 
signs, and  a  determination,  when  oi)portunity 
offered,  of  detracting  and  humiliating  the 
rampant  Methodism  of  tlie  day. 

On  tlie  evening  before  the  meeting  whi(!h 
Mr.  Baker  was  notified  to  attend,  there  was  a 
special  reunion  in  Mr.  Campbell's  church  of 
most  of  the  ]>rincipal  ministers  and  official 
members  of  the  Presbyterian,  Baptist  and 
Congregational  churches,  and  of  one  or  two 
minor  sects.  Besides  the  usual  number  of 
ministers,  deacons,  and  elders,  there  were  also 
souK^  of  the  great  ones  present  on  the  occasion. 
Dr.  Theophilus  Buster,  moderator  of  the 
(iimeral  Assembly,  attended  ;  so  did  the  Rev. 
Caleb  Howe,  a  distinguished  preacher  and 
administrator  of  the  Baptists  ;  there  wen;  also 
the  Hev.  .lunah  Hall  of  tin'  Independents,  and 
some  of  till!  most  shrewd  and  active  members 
of  other  (lenominatiiins. 

Dr.  Buster,  tbe  nu)d(>rator,  was  sitting  at  the 
end  of  a  large  table  near  the  vestry  door,  and 
three  or  four  ministers  sat  close  by,  exclusive- 
ly engaged  on  some  subject  of  imjjortance. 
There  secnned  t(j  be  a  disagreement ;  for  occa- 
.sionally  a  fist  would  conu:  down  on  the  table 
with  suilieient  force  to  attrnctthe  attention  of 
other  persons  dispersed  in  twos  ami  threes  in 
different  parts  of  tin;  church.  Tlu!  discussion 
at  tlie  taide  rtdated  to  some  ]ilan  which  was 
to  be  submitted  to'  all  preseni  that  evening, 
and  sei'iiieil  to  keej)  the  reverend  debaters 
scnuewhat  restless;  whilo  the  mutter  of  con- 
versation around  indicated  a  probable  differ- 
ence of  opinion  on  the  subject  which  then  en- 
gaged attention. 

An  indifferent  looker-#n  that  evening  would 
have  readily  discovered  that  even  the  select 
ministers  fluMu*  assembled  were  not  of  one 
mind  ;  and  that  within  the  very  precincts  of 
Mr.  C'ampbell'H  sanctuary  all   wuB  not  har- 


mony. Faint  whispers,  those  shadows  of 
thought,  after  awhile  gave  way  to  loud  words 
which  followed  faster  and  faster  from  the  lips 
of  ijxcited  men.  Away  from  the  rest,  two  dea- 
cons sat  astride  of  a  fonn,  and  facing  each 
other ;  they  had  once  been  members  of  the 
Close  Communion  Church  under  the  pastorate 
of  the  Rev.  Caleb  Howe ;  but  recently,  one  of 
the  deacons  became  more  liberal,  and  allied 
liimself  to  the  Open  Connnimiomsts.  For  this 
he  was  eluded  by  his  more  ste&dfast  and  con- 
servative brother ;  there  was  a  lively  contro- 
versy for  a  time,  and  a  grand  flourish  of  texts 
in  attack  and  defense  of  their  different  vitnvs. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  John,"  said  the  steadfast 
dea<'on,  "you  left  us  because  you  had  itching 
cars,  and  wanted  to  hear  novelties.  The  Scrip- 
tures are  plain  and  positive  on  the  subject  of 
my  belief,  and  any  who  will  not  conform  to 
the  strict  letter  of  the  law  have  neither  part 
nor  lot  in  the  matter.  '  Come  out  from  among 
them,  and  be  ye  separate,'  ii  the  command, 
and  you  know  it,  John,  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  And  why  don't  you  keep  separate  ?"  re- 
plied the  other.  "  Tlie  Regular  Baptists  show 
the  same  inconsistency  that  you  do  now. 
Here  you  are  among  unbelievers  in  one  of 
your  very  essentials — ready  to  take  counsel 
from  them  and  advise  with  them  upon  church 
matters;  and  yet  you  believe  that  the  major- 
ity present,  because  they  differ  in  opinion  with 
you,  are  outside  of  the  pale,  and  imregener- 
ate.  Tut,  man,  if  I  didn't  think  these  people 
fit  \o  sit  with  me  at  the  table  of  the  Lord,  I 
would  keep  clear  of  them  altogether.  I  have 
r(>ad  and  re-read  the  tract  of  tlie  great  Robert 
Hall  on  your  illiberal  Close  Communion ;  ho 
was  a  true  Baptist,  and  I  well  remember  his 
words.  He  wrote,  '  It  is  too  much  to  expect 
an  enlightened  public  will  be  eager  to  enroll 
themselves  among  the  members  of  a  sect 
which  displays  much  of  the  intolerance  of 
Popery.'  These  were  the  deliberate  words 
of  that  saint ;  get  over  them  if  you  can." 

"  Ay  ;  but  Robert  Hall,  the  saint  as  you  call 
him,  wasn't  gospel,"  said  one  of  a  few  listen- 
ers who  had  gathered  around  the  pair  of  dea- 
cons ;  "  neither  was  lu;  what  I  would  wish  a 
man  to  be  who  pretended  t(»  continue  '  stead- 
fast and  immovable.'  " 

"  There  was  no  pretense  about  him,  friend  ; 
you  haven't  a  man  among  you,  at  any  rate, 
that  is  his  ecpial,"  rei)lied  another. 

"  I  think,"  said  a  Presbyterian  brother, 
siding  with  the  defender  of  Mr.  Hall,  "  I 
think  that  man  was  an  honor  to  this  age; 
and  although  I  entirely  differ  from  his  opinion 
as  to  what  Christian  baptism  ought  to  be,  Ite 
was  a  man  of  free  mind  and  made  of  the 
right  kind  of  stuff.  If  a  person  finds  himself 
in  error,  he  ought  not  to  be  called  inconsistent 
because  he  is  willing  to  be  set  right,  and  then 
sticks  to  Avhat  he  has  proved  to  be  truth." 

"  Eh,  now,  friend,  but  that's  a  strange  view 
to  take,"  said  the  steadfast  man.  "  I  doubt  if 
ever  any  one  who  had  the  rvifness  of  tlio 
Spirit  would  be  so  ready  to  change  his  opinion 
at  every  hand's  turn  as  to  the  meaning  of  the 
plain  command  of  God.  Robert  Hall's  belief 
as  to  how  baptism  ought  to  be  administered 
was  right  enough  ;  liut  when  he  advocated 
open  communion  with  the  supporters  of  infant 


w 


98 


EXETER   HALL. 


I  if!'* 


sprinblingr,  lie  was  wronj?.  "We  can't  budge  a 
peg  from  the  true  word  ;  nay,  man,  we  have  no 
right  to  recognize  people  as  worthy  communi- 
cants who  have  not  been  properly  baptized." 

"  Infant  sprinkling !  Well,  do  you  mean  to 
say,"  retorted  the  other,  "  that  any  Christian 
man  who  has  not  been  thrust  under  water 
like  a  gaping  duck  has  not  received  the  prop- 
er baptismal  rite  ?  Do  you  mean  to  say  to  my 
face  that  I  am  not  yet  baptized  ;  I,  who  was 
sprinkled  by  the  great  Doctor  Chalmers  him- 
self even  before  I  was  a  week  old  ?" 

"  I  mean,  friend,  that  unless  we  are,  accord- 
ing to  Colossians  the  2d  and  12th,  huricd 
■with  him  in  baptism,  we  will  be  buried  in  the 
earth  without  it.  A  mere  fillip  of  mist  in  the 
face  may  do  for  Methodists  and  such  Papist- 
like folk,  but  will  never  do  for  men  who  wish 
to  conform  to  the  plain  word — never,  man." 

"  Ah,  mon !  but  yee're  delooded  !"  struck  In 
an  irritated  North  Briton,  "  ye  wad  twist  an 
twist  the  ecriptur  to  suit  yoursel.  Wha  merit 
hae  ye  in  a  ploonge  abnon  a  sprinkle?  ye 
hae  nae  mickle.  Why  the  poorest  body  o'  a 
Mithodist  wad  sniffle  a'  that." 

A  Congregationalist  brother  now  came  to 
the  rescue  of  the  church  of  John  Knox,  and 
insiste  1  that  the  language  used  against  infant 
baptism  was  not  what  might  be  expected 
from  any  person  who  knew  any  thing  of 
divine  grace.  It  ill  became  a  sot  of  sour, 
deluded  divers  at  the  present  day  to  cast  a 
reflection  on  the  descendants  of  men  Avho  had 
shed  their  blond  for  the  truth.  It  was  a  proof 
that  the  baptism  of  which  they  boasted  so 
loudly  was  not  sufficient  to  bestow  that 
charity  that  '  thinketh  no  evil  ;'  and  as  the 
brother  grew  warmer  on  the  subject,  his  decla- 
mation became  stronger. 

At  this  stage  of  the  discussion,  there  was 
quite  an  excitement,  and  it  was  apparent  that 
any  thing  but  a  religious  feeling,  or  even  a 
desire  to   exhibit   ordinary  forbearance,  was 
manifested  by  a  large  majority  of  those  pres- 
ent.   By  this  time,  a  few  of  the  ministers  had 
approached,  and  stood  here  and  tliere,  outside 
the  circle  of  heads  that  surrounded  the  origi- 
nal combatants ;  and  while  the  deacons  and 
their  respective  adherents  still  hotly  contend- 
ed, the  nil  I  listers  took  sides,  and  frtnn  their 
winks,  nods,  and  gestures  of  impatience,  it 
might  be  only  reasonable  to  infer  that  some- 
thing more  seri(,us  than  an  ordinary  alterca- 
tion would  ensue  unless  a  stop  were  put  to 
the   gross   irregularity  of  a   few  hot-headed 
men.     It  would  be  a  curious  thing,  indeed,  to 
see  the  validity  of  a  religious  doctrine  tested 
■njithin  the  very  walls  of  u  church  by  a  resort 
to  physical  force,  or  by  a  dis])lay  of  the  barba- 
rous science  of  tl\e  trained  athletes  so  disgust- 
ingly detailed  in  BdVii  Life.     There  would 
be  a  nice  winding  up  of  this  little  reunion  of 
select  saints,  if  may  bo  the  moderator  himself 
had  to  leave  the  sacred  edifice  with  a  bandage 
over  his  eye,  or  his  arm  in  a  sling.     What 
an  exani]ile  for  unbelievers !  and  what  hosan- 
nas  would  be  sung  alike*   by  High  Church 
and  Pa])ist!     What  heart-breaking  connnents 
would  bo  conspicuously  printed  in  ihe  Metho- 
dist   Watchman  of   the  ensuing  week!     It 
would  never  do.    Baptiste  and  PcdobaptistB, 


and  all  others  engaged  must  at  once  give  up 
the  unseemly  strife,  and  turn  their  attention 
to  the  common  enemy. 

An  announcement  was  made  that  the  mod- 
erator desired  to  make  a  few  remarks  on  the 
present  aspect  of  aftiiirs,  in  relation  to  theposi/- 
tion  and  prospects  of  the  denominations  repre- 
sented by  the  persons  present,  and  to  devise 
means  whereby  a  greater  union  could  be  estab- 
lished between  themselves,  in  order  to  expose 
the  errors  and  spiritual  delinquencies  of  an  as- 
piring sect,  and  to  prove  that  its  pretended  zea- 
was  not  so  much  for  the  glory  of  God  as  for 
the  honor  and  emolument,  particularly  of  its 
clerical  adherents. 

An  intimation  to  this  effect  was  made  in  a 
liurried  manner  by  one  of  the  elders,  who, 
while  speaking,  kept  extending  and  closing 
his  arms,  and  gently  thrusting  himself  be- 
tween some  who  still  stood  their  ground,  as 
if  indifferent  to  any  thing  else  but  the  merits 
of  the  particular  mode  of  baptism  which  they 
had  been  advocating.  By  dint  of  patience, 
however,  and  by  giving  the  wink  of  fellow- 
ship to  one,  and  a  confidential  nudge  to  an- 
other, and  by  the  gentle  force  of  a  few  of  the 
more  sensible  and  discreet  of  the  brethren,.. 
the  principals  were  separated,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  nearly  all  were  found  either  seated  or 
standing  in  front  of  the  table  occupied  by  the 
moderator  and  ministers ;  but  although  a 
truce  was  thus  obtained,  it  could  be  easily 
perceived  from  the  number  of  excited  eyes, 
and  ffom  certain  flushed  faces,  and  by  the 
lingering  looks  of  defiance  that  passed  from 
one  to  another,  that  the  troubled  waters  had 
not  yet  fully  subsided. 

The  Hev.  Andrew  Campbell,  minister  of  St. 
Andrews  Church,  in  whfaJh  the  present  little 
assembly  met,  was  a  stout,  low-sized  man,  evi- 
dently well  fed.  He  had  a  florid  face  and  rcnl-  ■ 
dish  hair  ;  he  wore  spectacles  over  a  pair  of 
very  prominent  eyes,  and  his  countenance  in- 
dicated no  very  marked  intelligence.  There 
was,  as  had  been  once  observed,  a  kind  of  cleri- 
cal sheepislmess  about  his  looks  which  his  re- 
puted leare.ing  could  not  qualify  ;  but  as  he 
had  been  indoctrinated  into  the  complexities  of 
Calvinism  at  an  early  age,  and  had  tlu!  train- 
ing necessary  to  enable  him  as  a  Presbyterian 
teacher  to  explain  passages  of  script  un*  in  sup- 
port of  that  belief,  he  was  ever  ready  to  com- 
bat antagonistic  oyunions,  and  was  stubborn 
enougli  to  retain  his  mvn  views  at  any  sacri- 
fice, ev<Mi  against  the  many  contradictory 
texts  to  be  found  in  the  Bible  in  support  of 
opposite  tenets. 

Nearly  in  front  of  this  favored  pastor  sat 
the  Kev.  Cah'b  Howe,  the  Baptist  niinist(>r  ;  he 
was  a  little  taller  and  a  great  deal  thinner  than 
his  clerical  brother  of  tSt.  Andrews ;  he,  too, 
wore  sp(!ctacles,  Init  they  Axere  slightly  shaded 
and  it  was  no  doubt  uncharitably  said,  that 
they  were  worn  as  much  to  hide  the  "  cast"  in 
one  of  his  eyes  as  to  be  of  assistance  to  his  vis- 
ion. H(!  was  mild  in  ajipearance,  and  one  would 
imagine  ol  a  constitution  too  delicate  to  ad- 
minister a  spiritual  bath  to  another  without 
inj  ury  to  himself  Ndlwithstanding,  however, 
the  little  rumpus  that  had  just  taken  ]»lace, 
he  seemed  to  be  in  no  way  disconcerted,  but  waa 


no 

w< 
pr 

In 

of 
ra 

j«l 
ch 


EXETER    HALL. 


29 


tor  pat 

tcr ;  ho, 

IT  tlmu 

he,  too, 

sluidt'd 

id,  tlmt 

cast"  in 

hisvis- 

iC  Avould 

to  ad- 

vvithout 

owover, 

jilace, 

but  waa 


now  just  us  ready  for  other  business  as  he 
would  have  been  to  defend  his  idea  of  the 
proper  baptismal  rite,  were  it  necessary. 

Th'jn,  there  wao  the  Rev.  Jonah  Hall,  the 
Independent  minister.  He  was  known  as  one 
of  the  most  popular  preachers  in  London, 
rather  humorous  occasionally,  and  his  pulpit 
jokes  were  retailed  far  and  wide,  while  his 
church  was  generally  filled  with  the  most 
select  and  fashionable  of  congregotictns.  Ho 
was  a  wiry,  determined-lookinjr  man,  alter- 
nately aifected  by  pride  and  humility  ;  but  in 
defense  of  the  faith,  one  upon  whom  you 
miprbt  rely,  and  one  who  was  ever  ready  to 
back  his  opinions,  either  by  words  or  blows,  or 
in  any  other  manner  most  convenient  to  an 
opponent. 

The  other  nunisters  were  unobtrusive  look- 
ing persons,  connected  with  small  sects,  yet 
men  who  felt  that  their  spiritual  authority 
waG  something  to  be  recognized  ;  and  some 
of  thf?  elders  and  deacons  were  sufficiently 
belligerent  in  aspect  to  justify  the  conclusion, 
that  in  a  moral  combat,  not  to  go  any  further, 
you  migiit  rely  on  them  as  being  steadfast 
and  uncompromising.  One  could,  how(!ver, 
observe  that  most  of  the  persons  just  referred 
to,  particularly  the  nunisters,  tried  to  appear 
very  mild  and  courteous,  and  such  was  their 
ordinary  address,  unless  agitated  by  doctrinal 
disputes,  which  it  seemed  were  too  often 
prevalent,  even  among  the  reputed  heralds  of 
peace. 

But  the  individual  considered  the  most  im- 
portant personage  present  that  evening  was 
tlio  Rev.  Dr.  Theophilus  Buster,  who,  by  spe- 
cial request,  favored  the  brethren  with  his  pres- 
ence ;  and  with  a  few  exceptions  all  within  the 
church  paid  him  the  greatest  deference  and 
attention.  Hf!  was  a  very  tall  man,  portly 
and  pompous  in  appearance  ;  life  stood  erect, 
and  his  height  seemed  to  be  increased  by  the 
manner  in  which  his  coarse  bristly  hair  was 
brushed  up  from  his  low  receding  forehead. 
He  certainly  wished  to  be  ccmsidered  a  person 
of  no  ordinary  importance,  and  he  used  all 
the  recognized  airs  to  make  that  impression. 
He  wore  a  suit  of  tiie  deepest  clerical  black, 
cut  and  fittcnl  in  tlu^  most  approved  style ; 
u  neckcloth  of  s])otless  Avhite  was  wound 
anniiid  his  stout  neck  in  such  a  manner  as  if 
intended  to  splice  liis  head  to  his  body  more 
securi'ly  ;  iiii  exceedingly  white  pair  of  shirt- 
wrists  pec^ped  out  below  his  coat  sleeves,  and 
though  the  severe  look  of  his  (H)ld  grey  eye 
was  not  obscured  by  spectacles,  yet  tlmre  was 
pi'iidaut  Croni  his  lUH'k  a  rich  gold-mounted 
eye-glass  attaclied  to  a  plain  black  ril)l)on  ; 
tliis  ornaumnt  must  have  added  much  to  his 
dignity  ;  for  when  he  gave  one  of  his  many 
fornuxl  bows,  the  little  glistening  glass  would 
tip  ngiiiiist  the  chain  ol'  his  gold  repeat<>r,  and 
make  a  tinkling  sound,  like  that  which  in 
Honie  i)laces  might  bo  t>xpected  to  announce 
I  lie  coming  of  somo  great  higli  priest. 

Then  his  clerical  attitude  was  nu)s't  perfect 
— jjorfect  dignity.  His  lu^ad  and  shoulders 
were  thrown  bac'k,  and  his  tiiuml)8  inserted 
into  thearni-hol(>rt  of  lus  smoothly  fitting  vest 
giving  to  his  soft  open  hand  on  each  side,  t'.-.e 
appearance  of  a  rudimentary  wing,  which 
might  be  8upi)osed  to  indicate  a  preparation 


for  his  final  flight  from  the  pomps  and  vani- 
ties of  ti'is  world  to  a  more  exalted  sphere  of 
la'ior. 

He  was  dignified  ;  not  a  smile  cheered  the 
sage  serenity  of  his  countenance.  Ho  was 
superbly  demure,  and  in  nearly  every  other 
respect  fitted  to  make  a  profound  impression 
on  the  ordinary  race  of  believers.  From  his 
tact  and  finesse  in  the  pulpit,  he  won  the  re- 
ligious attections  of  his  congregation — the 
ladicis  in  particular  were  enraptured — and  by 
such  means  his  church  became  crowded  with 
admiring  worshipers,  and  his  pews*  were 
let  at  exorbitimt  rates,  the  gross  rental  being 
annually  a  very  large  sum.  He  was  also  im- 
mensely popular  with  his  more  wealthy  hear- 
ers ;  and  by  his  courtesy  and  address  toAvard 
his  ministerial  brethren,  by  his  advocacy  of 
sound  Calvinistic  views,  and  demand  for  a 
puritanical  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  ho 
won  his  way  until  he  attained  the  impor- 
tant position  as  moderator  of  the  General 
Assembly. 

Dr.  Buster's  influence  with  the  ladies  of  his 
flock  partly  arose  from  another  cause  ;  he  was 
laboring  under  a  painful  difficulty,  of  a  do- 
mestic nature.  Thorougaly  orthodox,  ho 
could  never  sanction  any  under  his  control  to 
interpret  Scripture  so  as  to  conflict  with  his 
ideas  ;  and  while  he  abhorred  a  schismatic,  he 
seemed  to  exult  in  pronouncing  a  dreadful 
woe  against  any  imfortunate  who  dared  to 
d(mbt  a  single  passage  of  tlie  word  of  Go'd. 
Strange  to  say,  his  own  wife  diff"ered  from  him. 
Her  mind  had  been  cast  in  a  different  mould 
from  his ;  she  was  highly  intelligent,  liberal 
in  opinion,  and  benevolent,  and  could  not  be 
forced  to  believe  contrary  to  her  convictions. 
She  was  not  sufficiently  passive  to  be  the  wife 
of  a  minister  ;  she  would  make  no  empty 
formal  profession ;  and  this  independenct  of 
thought  and  action  highly  exasperated  the 
doctor,  and  ultimately  led  to  alienation,  and 
sy.stematic  persecution.  Of  this,  she  was  at' 
last  forced  to  complain  ;  but  the  doctor  won 
the  sympathy  of  true  believers.  He  made  af- 
fecting private  appeals  to  many  of  the  chief 
men,  and  to  sonu)  of  tho  admiring  women, 
who  were  spiritually  fed  by  his  hand.  None 
would  countenance  tlu!  recreancy  of  his  wfe  ; 
he  was  looked  upon  as  an  afflicted  man,  whose 
efforts  to  establish  truth  should  be  applauded. 
None  would  l)elieve  that  he  was  capable  of 
harshness  ;  and  when  he  was  thus  sustained 
by  nearly  all,  he  became  more  positive  and 
exacting,  until  it  was  at  last  rumored  that  a 
separation  had  taken  place,  that  his  domestic 
hai)piness  was  at  an  end,  and  that  his  wife 
had  taken  her  de]iarture,  none  knew  whither. 

He  was  now  left  the  sole  guardian  and  pro- 
tector of  his  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl, 
l)oth  of  tender  years.  He  had  placcMl  them 
under  the  care  of  an  old  housekeeper  who  had 
lived  for  some  tinu-  in  his  family,  and  subse- 
(juently  under  the  numagement  of  a  more  ac- 
tive person,  who  was  a  memlwr  of  his  own 
diurch,  a  womati  who  would  Xm  sure  to  im- 
press their  minds  with  sound  religious  princi- 
l)les.  N«  wonder  then,  deserted  as  he  was, 
that  the  doctor  had  sr  many  fair  sympa- 
thizing friends.  The  ladies  of  his  congrega- 
tion looked  upou  him   as  one  whoso  name 


§ 


80 


EXETER    HALL. 


:"! 


might  yet  bo  hand(^  down  to  posterity  as  an 
example  of  patience'  under  affliction.  Tliere- 
fore,  as  an  inj  ured  uncomplaining  man  in  the 
cause  of  truth,  his  trials  were  almost  a  con- 
stant theme  at  tea-parties;  and  a  great  portion 
of  the  time,  not  taken  up  by  missionary  or 
church  afiairs,  was  spent  by  his  spiritual  sis- 
ters and  daughters,  in  devising  how  to  add 
a  little  comfort  or  sunshine  to  the  dreary,  win- 
try life  of  this  suffering  and  exemplary  Chris- 
tian pastor. 

There  were  some  reputed  wise  ones,  how- 
ever, who  were  bold  enough  to  assert  tliat  the 
chastened  moderator  was  not  altogether  a 
true  pattern  of  saintly  perfection.  There 
were  many,  who,  like  the  Rev.  Jonah  Hall, 
for  instance,  thought  he  was  but  a  specious 
pretender,  a  cold,  unfeeling  hyjiocrite,  and 
that  time  would  yet  develop  his  true  charac- 
ter. There  were  murmurs  and  mutterings 
liero  and  there,  that  the  doctor's  public  and 
private  life  wcsrc  in  sad  contrast.  What  had 
become  of  his  wife  'i  Did  he  cast  her  from 
him,  or  was  she  now  the  hidden  victim  of 
his  resentment  ?  Was  it  j)ossible  that  lie  knew 
nothing  of  her  ?  Why  did  he  keep  his  house 
like  a  prison,  and  his  children  with  a  stranger  ? 
There  was  something  irreconcilable  in  his  con- 
duct ;  and,  as  these  things  were,  time  after 
time,  mooted,  the  knowing  ones  [Tew  diuly 
more  mysterious. 

But  tlie  doctor  stood  fair  with  the  members 
of  his  own  church  ;  such  defamingreports  grew 
out  of  sectarian  jealousy — notlung  else  could 
be  expected.  The  great  Presbyterian  body 
looked  upon  him  with  i)ride  as  the  embodi- 
men'.;  of  learning  and  piety;  and  now,  as  he 
was  about  to  address  the  few  assembled  in 
St.  Andrew's  Church,  wrangling  elders  and 
deacons  subsided,  and  all  awaited  in  silence. 

The  reverend  doctor,  on  rising  with  a  kind 
of  easy  dignity  to  address  the  few  around  him, 
first  drew  from  his  pocket  a  white  cambric 
handkerchief  which  he  delicately  applied  to 
his  lips,  as  if  to  remove  any  impediment  to  the 
flow  of  words  which  might  be  expected  to  fol- 
low. He  then  made  a  stately  inclination  and 
commenced: 

"  Kev.  gentlemen  and  most  esteemed  friends, 
aconmrrence  of  circumstances  has  rendered 
it  imj)erative  on  mo  to  solicit  your  attention 
for  a  short  period  tliis  evening.  I  desire  to 
state  a  few  important  facts,  for  the  purpose  of 
stimulating  you  to  prom[)t  action  against  en- 
croachments of  a  ])ecu]iar  nature.  1  wish  not 
to  excite  an  unchristian  ebullition,  or  a  mere 
effervescence  of  transient  indignation.  No, 
my  friends,  we  must  not  be  betrayed  into  any 
unseemly  demonstration  ;  we  must  proceed 
cautiously.  Therefore,  first,  I  desire  calm  de- 
liberation, secondly,  confidence  and  co()j)(!ra- 
tion,  and  thirdly,  strenuous  and  persevering 
effort." 

He  paused;  tho  lengthened  words  uttercid 
with  such  classical  jjrecision  by  the  learned 
doctor  seemed  to  have  8tep])ed  out  from  his 
lips  witli  measured  pace,  and  to  have  ranged 
themselves  about  him  like  a  body-guard  of 
grenadiers. 

No  wonder  that  tho  Rev.  Andrew  Campbell 
should  look  upon  this  fountain  of  eloquence 
with  a  feeling  of  denominational  pride.    No 


wonder  that  elders  and  deacons,  and  simple 
pastors  should  stand  almost  amazed  at  the 
sound  of  language  which  they  could  scarcely 
comprehend ;  while  others  huddled  closer  to 
the  speaker,  as  if  they  fully  understood  tho 
deep  meaning,  at  the  close  of  the  finished  jHi- 
ricd. 

The  learned  doctor  continued  for  some  min- 
utes in  the  same  strain.  He  again  urged  them 
to  be  active  ;  and  though  he  cautioned  them 
to  be  as  wise  as  serpents,  he  was  forgetful  of 
the  context  concerning  harmlessness  of  doves. 
He  made  some  very  pointed  and  severe  remarks 
about  the  illiterate  and  presumptuous  preach- 
ers of  the  day  ;  he  alluded  to  one  particular 
sect  which  he  said  was  as  overbearing  in  its 
ignorance  as  Avas  the  Church  of  St.  Peter — 
the  Romish — with  all  its  scholastic  attain- 
ments. An  effort  must  be  made  to  keep  such 
men  in  their  proper  position.  It  was  not  for 
Presbyterians,  "ho,  through  many  trials,  had 
once  held  in  submission  tho  Popery  and 
Pj'elacy  of  a  former  period,  to  retire  before 
such  a  religious  rabble  ;  something  more  than 
a  formal  protest  was  necessary ;  it  would 
never  do  to  leave  the  field  to  others. 

By  tliis  time  the  doctor  grew  warm  ;  the  dig- 
nified placidity  which  at  first  seemed  to  hang 
like  a  silken  vail  over  his  face,  was  now  drawil" 
aside,  and  a  countenance  depicting  fierce  and 
vindictive  passion  was  exposed  to  view  ;  even 
his  very  admirers  felt  somewhat  uneasy  at  the 
transitifm,  and  found  relief  when  he  took  his 
seat  and  applied  the  white  handkerchief  to 
his  heated  brow. 

There  was  a  murmur  of  applause,  but  it 
was  only  a  murmur.  The  brethren  breathed 
mor(!  freely,  and  looked  at  each  other  as  if  they 
had  but  just  escaped  from  some  impending 
danger. 

In  a  moment  or  two,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Howe 
stood  up ;  he  approved  of  what  tho  Rev.  mod- 
erator had  suggested,  and  remarked  that  he 
was  quite  free  to  admit  the  services  and  pious 
determinatitm  of  his  Presbyterian  brethren 
in  times  past,  but  they  must  not  forget  what 
others  had  done.  No  religious  body  of  ])eo- 
ple  W(^re  ever  more  ready  to  make  a  sacrifice 
for  the  truth  than  the  Baptists,  of  whom  ho 
was  an  unworthy  ministiT.  He  wished  to 
speak  plainly ;  he  had  no  confidence  in  tlie  pre- 
tensions of  Methodists  or  their  allies.  He 
had  been  among  them  often,  and  had  onco 
hoped  that  people  who  could  meet  and  i)ray 
together  for  the  diss(>minati()n  of  the  word, 
and  for  the  downfall  of  Popery — not  excepting 
that  of  the  High  Cliurch — would  find  no  rea- 
son to  be  on  thtnr  guard  against  (>ach  other. 
The  Methodists  were  full  of  monopolizing  de- 
signs, he  could  not  trust  them  ;  and  he  re- 
gretted that  after  all  that  had  been  said  and 
(loiK!  by  the  boasted  Evnngelict,  1  Alliance,  sec- 
tarian jealousy  still  existed  and  was  particu- 
larly manifested  by  the  Wesleyans. 

These  remarks  were  agreeably  received. 
The  spirit  of  the  meeting  was,  "  Down  with 
th(!  M(!tliodists !" 

"  I  am  glad  that  the  Reverend  gentleman 
has  partly  explained  himself,"  said  the  Uisv.  Jo- 
nah Hall,  of  the  Independents,  "  though  I  wish 
that  while  he  is  so  liberal  toward  Presbyteri- 
ans and  Bai)ti8ts,  he  would  not  be  so  forgetful 


•■;& 


EXETER    HALL. 


81 


iiitlnman 
llov.Jo- 


of  what,  Inclopondonts  have  done.  I  hope," 
Haid  ho  humorously,  "  that  lio  does  not  in- 
tend to  k'live  my  particular  friends  out  in  tlie 
cold,  or  to  classify  them  with  the  blatant  rant- 
ers of  the  day.  The  Independents  could  and 
would  be  indepeiident  of  all  others,  if  ne- 
cessary ;  they  had  sutFered  in  the  cause,  and 
would  occupy  no  secondary  position  in  the 
strufjffle  for  ri^ht.  But,  friends,  wo  have  not 
met  hero  to  discuss  private  opinions  of  supe- 
riority ;  we  came  here  to  try  and  counteract 
the  mischievous  designs  of  a  eomuion  enemy, 
and  this  is  the  timo  and  i>lace  to  begin  the 
work." 

There  were  cries  of  "hoar,  hear,"  and  the 
worthy  men  assembled  felt  as  if  they  were 
about  entering  into  the  s[)irit  of  the  thing. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  "  lie  continued, "  no  matter 
now  about  the  trifling  ditt'erences  that  may 
exist  among  ourselves,  we  must  put  a  stop  to 
the  gallop  of  these  Methodist  cavaliers  who 
are  cantering  about  so  confidently.  It  may  bo 
some  time  yet  before  they  take  the  beggar's 
ride  ;  but  the  swaddlers  are  on  horseback,  and 
as  they  are  the  chief  beggars  of  Christendom, 
the  adage  must  come  true,  for  they  will  surely, 
ride  to  the — well,  of  course,  in  this  place,  and 
in  presence  of  so  distinguished  a  divine — "  and 
he  accomi>anied  this  ironical  expression  with 
a  bow  to  the  moderator — "  I  won't  say  wlu?ro. 
Anyway,  we  must  put  a  five-barred  gate  in 
their  way  that  they  can't  jump." 

There' was  a  burst  of  applause,  some  loud 
laughter,  and  fresh  cries  of, "  hear  him,  hear 
him."  The  Rev.  moderator  about  this  time 
began  to  show  symptoms  of  displeasure.  Had 
they  forgotten  who  he  wasV  His  dignity 
was  hurt ;  for  the  speaker's  irony  was  lather 
pointed.  This  was  a  case  of  ministerial  jeal- 
ousy, tlie  general  result  of  mixed  assenil>iieH. 

"  Now,  my  friends,"  continued  Mr.  Hall, 
"  we  have  the  ranters  in  a  cornijr.  They  want 
to  flourish  again  at  Exeter  Hall.  Let  us  meet 
them  to-morrow  night  on  our  own  ground,  and 
rout  them.  Let  us  now  decide  who  shall  be 
nominati'd  to-morrow  evening  as  our  delegate 
at  the  coming  anniversary  ;  by  so  doing,  we  go 
there  prepared  to  take  the  wind  out  of  their 
sails." 

"  Yes,  that's  it,"  cried  two  or  three,  "let  us 
gopreparedfortlKui.  and  have  (mr  man  ready." 

'riio  llev.  moderatr)r  now  sugge.sted  that 
such  a  course  might  be  i>remature  ;  the  ninu- 
ber  tluui  ])reseiit  was  too  insignilicant  to  takc^ 
a  proceeding  of  that  kind.  They  Wtiulrl  meet 
many  additional  friends  to-morrow  evening 
wlio  miglit  wisli  to  have  a  voice  in  thi^  s(^l(^o- 
tion  ;  and  were  they  now  to  name  a  person  for  a 
delegate,  it  would  be  unpleasant  to  be  obliged 
to  lay  him  asi(l(>.  It  would  be  IxMter  to  let  the 
delegate  be  chosen  at  the  regular  meciting. 

The  Kev.  Andrew  Cami)l)(>ll  coiuuirred  in 
this  vi(!W.  It  would  no  doubt  be  mor(>  prudent 
to  leave  the  selection  to  the  meeting ;  while 
here,  they  could  make  other  arrangtnnents, 

The  Rev.  Jonah  Hall  c(mld  not  t^ee  the 
force  of  such  objections  to  a  nomination. 
What  other  arrangciment  could  th(>y  make  at 
present?  lie  could  not  understand  the  motive 
fiU"  delay.  "With  all  due  deference  to  the  supe- 
rior j  udgment  of  the  distinguished  moderator," 
said  he,  in  his  former  ironical  strain,  "  there 


might  be  a  few  pinsent  who  would  approve  of 
taking  action  at  once.  Let  us  choose  some 
name  to  be  presented  at  the  meeting ;  none  of 
our  absent  friends  can  object.  We  are  now 
comparatively  calm ;  wo  might  not  be  bo 
much  so  to-morrow  evening." 

"  I  propose,"  said  an  Open  Communion  bro- 
ther, starting  up,  "  that  the  Rev.  Jonah  Hall  be 
the  person  nominated." 

Cries  of  "  no,  no,  yes,  yes,"  were  now  heard. 
Several  persons  spoke  out  together,  and  some 
curious  expressions  were  audible.  The  mod- 
erator and  Mr.  Campbell  jumped  up  at  the 
same  moment,  and  almost  with  one  voice 
rudely  condemned  the  proposal. 

Already,  there  was  not  only  a  division  but  a 
subdivision.  The  moderator,  and  Mr.  Camp- 
bell, and  Mr.  Howe,  the  Regular  Baptist  min- 
ister, with  a  few  others,  were  in  favor  of  de- 
lay ;  while  the  Rev.  Jonah  Hall,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  his  church,  one  or  two  other  preachers, 
and  nearly  all  of  the  Open  Communionists 
were  for  proceeding  at  once  ;  while  still  a  few 
others  from  each  party  stood  apparently  in- 
dift'erent,  but  I'et.dy  to  join  the  fl|»jority. 

A  consiu -arable  time  was  tMft  spent,  as  it 
were,  in  charging  and  counter-charging.  The 
Rev.  Jonah  Hall  and  his  supporters  being 
most  numerous,  vould  not  give  way,  but 
continued  in  angry  altercation  and  bit- 
ter recriminations.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Camp- 
bell was  denounced  in  his  own  church. 
Ho  inight,  he  was  told,  order  them  out  if 
he  liked  ;  but  if  he  tried  to  overrule  them 
as  ho  seemed  willing  to  do  at  present,  the 
motive  would  be  only  too  plain.  If  he  had 
a  majority  on  his  side  sufficient  to  sup- 
port the  nomination  of  the  moderator,  all 
would  be  pleasant  enough  ;  but  the  moderator 
was  not  the  man  for  them,  and  they  would  en- 
deavor to  prove  it  on  the  veiy  first  opportimity. 

The  discomfited  minister  of  St.  Andrew's 
had  to  hide  his  mortification  the  best  way  he 
could.  The  result  of  this  select  meeting  was 
very  unexpected.  He  had  hop(^d  tiiat  the  mer- 
its of  Dr.  Buster  would  have  been  surtlcientto 
decide  in  his  favor  ;  and  although  he  expressed 
a  desire  to  delay  the  nomination  of  any  person 
for  delegate,  yet  ho  would  not  have  made  the 
least  objection   had  the  doctor  been  chosen. 

\V'hat  an  utter  want  of  appreciation  and  re- 
spect was  thus  shown  by  the  leader  of  an  in- 
significant sect  toward  such  a  person  as  the 
moderator  of  the  General  Assembly  !  In  a  few 
minutes,  ti'o  manifestations  were  fast  becom- 
ing pers(mal,  and  the  spirit  of  sect  wa;?  again 
in  the  ascendant.  The  moderator  and  his  par- 
ticular friends  were  in  high  dudgeon,  and  were 
preparing  to  leave  the  church  ;  but  the  Rev. 
Jonah  Hall  and  his  party,  desirous  of  showing 
their  contempt  of  the  whole  proceeding,  col- 
lected in  a  body,  and  as  they  hastened  away 
together,  the  heavy  bang  of  the  great  church 
door  resounded  through  the  whole  building. 

Half  an  hour  after  the  departure  of  these 
great  religious  luminaries,  the  sexton  of  St. 
Andrew's  extinguished  the  lesser  lights  in  that 
church — what  purpose  had  they  served  ?  and 
as  he  walived  away,  alon(!,  along  the  dreary 
street,  ho  met  shivering  women  and  hungry 
children  ;  and  he  looked  back  at  the  stately 
proportions  of  the  edifice,  looming  up  iu  the 


"^^^ 


82 


EXETER    HALL. 


misty  night,  and  thought  of  the  thousands  of 
homeless  wanderers  who  would  be  glad  to 
find  even  temporary  shelter  within  such  walls. 
But  there  is  no  humanity  in  their  marlla  bo- 
soms ;  those  splendid  and  costly  religious  mon- 
uments could  not  be  desecrated  to  charity. 
They  were  not  erected  as  a  refuge  for  the 
wretched  and  forlorn  ;  they  wen;  not  intended 
for  the  mitigation  of  real  suffering.  If  they 
do  not  open  their  spacious  doors  to  shelter  the 
living  poor,  they  can,  lilie  the  great  Abbi^y  of 
Westminsti-r,  receive  and  protect  the  wither- 
ing remains  of  the  wealthy  dead. 


h 


CHAPTER  VII. 


If  the  Rev.  Dr.  Buster  had  reason  to  feel 
aggrieved  at  the  want  of  courtesy  shown  him 
in  St.  Andrew's  church,  and  at  the  indignity 
to  which  he  had  been  subjected  by  the  minis- 
ter of  a  petty  sect  of  Independents,  he  felt  in 
some  degree  compensated  by  the  distin- 
guished )  eception  he  met  with  at  the  house  of 
his  reverend  friend,  Mr.  Campbell.  ^Vhen  it 
was  known  that  the  doctor  was  to  be  the  guest 
of  the  minister  of  St.  Andrew's,  the  ladie.s  of 
that  congregation  turned  out  in  companies  of 
five,  or  six,  and,  by  tlieir  constant  calls  for  sev- 
eral hours,  fairly  besieged  the  dwelling  of  thtMr 
pastor,  which  was  for  the  i)reaent  to  be  the 
transient  or  rather  temporary  abode  of  one  of 
the  elect,  whose  Calvinistic  virtues  and  do- 
mestic long-Hufferings  endeared  him  to  so 
many. 

It  is  almost  needless  to  say,  that  the  reverend 
doctor  was  always  particularly  pleased  by  such 
attentions.  To  be  ministered  unto  by  tlu! 
soft  hands  of  Christian  sisters,  and  to  be  iool^ed 
at  with  affection  through  their  softer  evi.'.s, 
ought,  in  a  measure,  to  enable  any  man  to  feel 
reconciled  or  indifferent  to  the  unkindness  or 
hostility  of  his  unscrupulous  opponents  in  the 
struggle  for  precedence  or  distinction.  The 
reverend  doctor  was  hut  a  man  in  these  mat- 
ters, and  was  highly  gratified  at  meeting  with 
many  of  his  fair  friends  ;  and  to  look  at  him, 
as  he  sat  in  the  handsome  parlor  of  Mr. 
Campbell,  surrounded  by  so  much  sweet  sym- 
pathy, one  might  be  led  to  suppose  that  tlie 
doctor  would  bo  willing  to  suffer  some  slight 
misfortune  every  day,  in  order  to  be  restored 
by  sucli  a  dcslightful  remedy. 

To  wonum,  in  every  relation  of  life,  man  is 
indebted  tor  his  noblest  and  most  persevering 
eltorts.  Without  the  cheering  word  or  stim- 
ulating smile  of  Avoman,  many  a  vast  project 
■would  have  been  forsaken,  and  many  a  con- 
eiiicuous  laurel  never  worn ;  and,  although  the 
orthodox  of  the  present  day  might  not,  in 
all  cases,  be  willing  to  select  the  women  of 
the  Bible  as  patterns  of  feminine  goodness,  or 
domestic  virtue,  or  as  models  for  the  heroines 
of  modern  civilization,  yet  it  is  asserted  that 
witliout  her  influence  religion  would  decay 
or  languish  into  the  most  trivial  formality  ; 
that  patriotism  would  become  extinct,  and 
that  many  of  our  most  cherished  notions  would 
he  forsaken. 

In  every  age;  of  the  world,  woman  figures 
on  t^c  page  of  history  as  the  handmaid  of 


religion.  No  matter  in  what  form  it  has  ap- 
peared, how  rude  or  liow  ])ert\ct  has  been  its 
revelation,  she  has  favored  its  progress  and  lias 
assisted  in  its  extension,  eitiicr  as  priestess,  si- 
byl, vestal,  or  nun.  The  lionian,  as  well  as 
the  Reformed  Church  is  loud  in  her  praise  ;  and 
Protestant  missionarits would  have  very  little 
success  without  her  cooperation.  Among  the 
distant,  rude,  half-starved  tribes,  the  mission- 
ary's wife  in  the  kitchen  "lay  be  often  far 
more  persuasive  than  the  m.-isiomiry  himself 
inthe  pulpit;  and  the  shii. wrecked  mariner 
in  his  distress  is  often  comforted  by  the 
prayer  he  learnt  at  his  mother's  knee,  or  by  the 
possession  of  her  Bible  as  the  last  endearing 
token  of  her  memory. 

All  sects,  therefore,  readily  acknowledge 
that  by  woman's  pious  industry  churclies  are 
built,  endowments  made,  missions  eslaldished. 
Bibles  printed,  tracts  circulated,  Sunday- 
schools  opened,  antl  worldly  comforts  secured 
for  ministers.  In  fact,  by  lu.'r  zeal,  nearly  all 
the  rel'gious  machinery  of  the  age  is  lubrica- 
ted and  kei)t  in  operation.  As  her  faitli  is 
uuecjualed,  so  her  constancy  is  secure ;  and 
while  doubting,  reasoning,  incredulous  man 
is  restlessly  wandering  in  Highty  speculation, 
woman's  eye  remains  unalterably  fixed  oa. 
some  bright  particular  star  of  hope,  and  it 
watches   fondly   and   lovingly  there  forever. 

It  is  well,  then,  that  those  devoted  men  who  > 
undertake  the  performance  of  so  much  minis- 
ti'rial  drudgery  can  count  on  her  assistance  ; 
and  it  is  wt^ll  that  in  seasons  of  personal 
trial,  or  spiritual  adversity,  sisters  of  the 
church,  whether  of  Russia,  Rome,  England,  on 
Utah,  can  be  found  ready  to  soothe  the  priest- 
hood into  forg(!tt'uliiess  of  private  wrongs, 
and  <'ncourag(!  them  to  "press  forward  to  the 
nuirk  of  their  high  calling." 

This  sweet  inHuence  had  ever  a  most  potent 
and  peculiar  effect  on  the  Rev.  Do(;tor  Buster. 
No  matter  what  ])rivale  wrongs,  what  minis- 
terial jealousy,  what  vile  misri'])resentations 
might  disturb  his  Christian  serenity,  or  cause 
;  him   to  feel  for  a  moment  the   combatative 
jiromptings   of    the  old   Adam   still   strong 
witl'.in    him,  when  the  fair  members  of   his 
,  own  denomination  cared  for  him,  and  defend- 
:  (id  him,  and  prayed  for  him,  what  cause  had 
[lie    to     fearV     \\  hy    should     he     despond? 
'  Biicked  by  such  an  angelic  host,  he  could  over- 
])()wer  every  assailant,  and  triumph  over  every 
I  enemy. 

I      The    worthy    doctor   was,   therefore,    ever 
!  most  gracious  in  his  intercourse  with  Christian 
ladies;  indeed,  his  prefereiici!  for  female  soci- 
'  ety  of  any  kind  was  a  marked  characteristic  ; 
j  but  with  sisters  of  the  faith,  he  could  for  the 
time  forget  every  thing  of  a  personal  nature  ; 
with   th(;in,  evcm  in   the  more  formal   inter- 
change of  spiritual  courtesies,  lu;  appeared  to 
realize   perfect   happint'ss.     Thus  it    is   tluit 
good  men — the  persecuted   ministers  of  the 
I  liord — are  ever   rewarded  ;  thus,   while   the 
}  world  affects  to  despise  ancl  frown  upon  hum- 
ble servants  of  the  cross,  they  are  i)rivileged 
to  bask  in  the  bright  smih'S  of  pious,  devoted 
woman.     What  a  sw(>et  rewanl  for  ^lersonal 
I  sacrifice  in  the  cae.se  <»f  religion,  while  the 
scoffer  and  the  scornful  may  bt^  but  a  prey  to 
'  sullen  discontent  and  uncertainty  ! 


"^. 


EXETER    HALL. 


8d 


it  lias  np- 
s  been  its 
SB  and  has 
'iu.xtc'sti,  si- 
.3  well  fts 
raise ;  and 
very  little 
.monjr  the 
J  misfion- 
often  far 
y  himself 
[I  mariner 
1  by  the 
!,  or  by  the 
endearing 

inowledge 
iirches  are 
slublisheci, 
yunday- 
■ts  secured 
nearly  all 
is  lubrica- 
;r  faith  is 
•cure ;  and 
ilous  man 
)(Culation, 
fixed  oa. 
)pe,  and  it 
re  forever. 
i  men  who  ^ 
uch  minis- 
issistance ; 
r  personal 
rs  of  the 
Ingland,  or 
the  priest- 
,e  wrongs, 
ard  to  the 

ost  potent 

or  Buster. 

lat  minis- 

sentations 

or  cause 

ibatativo 

1   strong 

rs  of   his 

1(1  dofend- 

auso  had 

Icspond  ? 

uld  over- 

ver  every 

)ro,  ever 
Christian 
nuile  soci- 
nctoristic ; 
1(1  for  the 
il  nature ; 
ml  inter- 
)poai't!d  to 
is  tliat 
rs  of  the 
ivhile  the 
pon  hum- 
)rivilegod 
i,  devoted 

])ers()nal 
vhile  the 

a  prey  to 


Next  to  the  interest  which  the  doctor's  visit 
created,  tliiTe  was  that  causi.'d  by  the  meeting 
of  the  Branch  Bible  S(X'iety,  to  be  held  that 
evening.     Tlu;    doctor   would  bo   present  on 
that  octrasion,  and  the  ladies  of  Mr.  (.'anii)b(>ir8 
congregation  were  in  a  state  of  comnjotion: 
a  number  of  fair  collectors  were  marslialing 
their  forces,  and  malcing  out  sums  total ;  all 
wen;  anxious  to  have  a  large  amount  placed 
to  the  credit  of  Pr(!sl)yt(;rian  energy.     Then 
there  wtus  to  be  a  great  preliniinury  tea-meet- 
ing, at  which  the  doctor  would  ask  the  jjlesa- 
ing  ;  would  not  this  be  a  treat".'     And  then  to 
hear  him  relate  some  missionary  anecdote,  or 
repay  your  own  Sunday-school   trials  with 
one  of  his  bland  smiles  ;  would  not  that  bo 
agreeable  1    It  was  altogether  a  time  of  great 
interest  to  the  pious  ladies  crowded  together, 
and  one  miglit  be  inclined  to  excuse  the  total 
neglect  of    sundry  little   household  matters, 
when  such  affairs  of  religious  importance  had 
to  be  transacted  ;  the  L  ud's  business  of  course 
required  tiieir  first  attention. 
.    However,  while  the  soiree  at  which  the  doc- 
ti«r  presided  was  comfortably  crowded  with  the 
well-dressed  ladies  of  St.  Andrew's,  and  while 
the  (ixtensivo  tea-tabl    at  Mr.  Campbell's  was 
enMvened  by  innocent  chit-chat,  and  by  the 
Bmart  witticisms  and  soft  tlattery  of  the  mode- 
rator, the  llev.  Jonah  Hall  was  similarly  engag- 
ed nt  a  tea-m(3eting  in  his  own  house.    There, 
also,  many  of  the  gay  but  sanctified  sisters  of 
Israel  met  to  sip  Boliea  and  discuss  its  price ; 
and  afterward  to  ascertain  the  amount  of  local 
collections  for  the  circulation  of  the  Great  Book, 
and  to  make  out  certain  lists  of  lady  collectors 
for  the  ensuing  year.   Presbyterians,  and  Meth- 
odists, and  others  had  of  late  succeeded  in  get- 
ting a  choice  of  such  officials  almost  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  the  Independents,  and  an  attempt 
was  to  bo  made  at  the  meeting  that  night  to 
rectify  thisomission,  as  well  as  to  teach  Dr.  Bus- 
ter and  other  aspiring  people  a  lesson  of  humil- 
ity.    Pastors   are   general.y  regarded    with 
great  interest  by  the  female  members  of  their 
congregations,  and  the  Rev.  Jonah  Hall  was 
not  an  excei)tion.     There  was  a  certain  dash 
about  him  which  made  his  manner  rather  at- 
tractive to  the  younger  women  of  his  flock  ; 
and  of  course,  in  their  opinion,  he  was  every 
way  superior    to  the    pompous,"  pretentious 
moderator  of  the  Presbyterian  Assembly. 

After  these  rcsjjective  tea-meetings  were 
over,  it  was  expected  that  all  concerned  would 
wend  their  way  to  the  Baptist  church.  The 
annual  gathering  of  the  friends  of  the  Hamp- 
Btead  Branch  Bible  Society  was  always  an  occa- 
sion of  great  interest  to  worldlings  as  well  as 
to  worshipers  ;  more  particularly  to  pious  dis- 
Benters.  Indeed,  taking  it  altogether,  the  so- 
ciety was  a  popalar  institution.  To  be  an  offi- 
cer, to  be  one  of  its  many  vice-presidents,  or 
to  be  able  to  contribute  a  fair  amount  to  its 
funds  was  sure  to  pay,  or  to  turn  out  a  good 
Investment.  Tlie  meeting  that  evening  would 
HO  doubt  be  very  interesting  ;  it  would  be  like 
Exeter  Hall  on  a  small  scale  ;  there  would  be 
the  local  ministers  of  several  denominations  ; 
there  would  bo  a  few  great  ones,  like  Doctor 

JBuster ;  and  there  would  be  anthems  and  an- 
j^idotes,  ami  speeches,  and  thrilling  extracts 

-jfroni  missionary  reports.    And  then  how  pleas- 

^i  • 

w 


ant  it  would  be  to  see  ministers  and  members 
'  of  different  sects  meet  atvono  body,  act  with 
\  one  spirit,  and  be  enlivened  by  the  same  Oos- 
I  pel  vitality  ;  it  would  be  pleasant,  indeed; 
would  it  not  be  a  sight  to  abash  the  scoffer 
and  infidel  ?  There  would  be  the  place  to 
prove  how  Christians  could  be  "  kindly  affec- 
ticmate  one  to  another,  in  honor  preferring 
each  other."  That  would  be  the  place  to  put 
unbelievers  to  shame,  and  to  prove  how  worth- 
less were  the  insinuations  and  predictions  ut- 
tered against  Christian  fellowsliip.  Yes,  the 
harmony  that  should  jjrevail  among  an  assem- 
bly of  believers  would  be  an  overwhelming 
evidence  in  favor  of  tho  "  unity  of  spirit"  and 
th(^  "  bonds  of  peace." 

What  wrecks  of  fancy  are  strewn  upon  the 
rocks  of  fact !  Our  once  bright  hopes  are  now 
but  phantoms  to  the  memory!  Upon  what 
moonbeams  have  our  noblest  structures  been 
erected !  How  seldom  are  our  most  pleasing 
anticipations  realized !  how  often,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  th'-  budding  leaves  of  Hope  sudden- 
ly withered  and  blown  into  our  faces  by  some 
chilling  blast  of  adversity !  It  is  hard  to  see 
the  creations  of  faith,  that  1'  .)k  so  bright  and 
beautiful  in  the  distance,  become  dim  and 
faded  on  nearer  apjiroach ;  but  such  is  the 
experience  of  life,  and  the  Icjson  is  often  and 
often  taught  us  when  perhr.ps  we  least  expect 
its  r(!petition. 

While  many  of  the  good  people  who  were 
then  in  social  intercourse  and  enjoyment  at 
the  respective  houses  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Campbell 
and  tho  Rev.  Jonah  Hall,  and  while  many 
other  less  demonstrative  Christians  were 
making  prepavations  to  attend  tho  meeting 
that  evening,  the  Rev.  James  Baker  was  at 
home  with  a  few  friends,  making  ready  for  the 
same  occasion.  He  had  only  returned  an  hour 
or  two  previously,  after  having  taken  a  long 
ride  through  various  parts  of  his  circuit,  not 
for  the  pur^wse  of  filling  his  regular  appoint- 
ments, but  he  hud  been  to  places  where  he 
was  sure  to  find  some  of  the  strongest  friends 
of  Methodism,  and  some  of  tho  stoutest  and 
most  bitter  opponents  of  Calvinism.  That 
his  journey,  for  whatever  purpose  undertaken, 
had  been  successful,  was  apparent  at  a  glance. 

Tho  preacher  was  in  tlie  best  humor.  It 
was  (juite  plain  that  he  felt  like  a  man  who 
h(!ld  a  trump  card,  that  tho  game  was  secure, 
or  that  ho  could  checkmate  his  opponent  at 
the  proper  moment.  The  friends  who  were 
now  his  guests  were  men  who  could  be  relied 
on ;  their  mental  bias  was  unalterable.  They 
were  })rominent  local  preachers  and  circuit 
stewards.  They,  too,  had  a  confident  look 
about  them,  which  seemed  to  say,  we're  ready 
for  a  brush,  for  we  know  we  can  win.  There 
was  no  mistaking  their  appearance  as  being 
church  functionaries  of  some  kind.  They  wore 
black  coats  of  peculiar  cut,  and  heavy  wh'.tish 
neckerchiefs ;  only  one  or  tv.^o  were  dressed  in 
a  more  worldly  fashion. 

Mrs.  Baker  also  had  company.  A  few  of 
the  members  of  her  class  had,  as  usual,  remain- 
ed after  their  religious  duties  were  over, 
among  whom  wis  Mrs.  Manners.  Altogether, 
there  was  a  good  number  of  persons  present, 
mostly  all  of  one  mind,a<id  lively  in  anticipa- 
tion of  an  assured  success.    Tea  Iiad  been. 


M 


EXETER   HALL. 


'  ■  ',1 . 

in 


\i 


provided  for  all,  and  tlie  various  topics  pleas- 
antly discussed  at  tlvp  table  were  on  this  occa- 
sion particularly  intercstinjf .  After  Mr.  Baker 
and  liia  frieiula  had  partaken  of  tlie  good 
cheer,  they  retired,  as  if  for  a  short  rehearsal 
of  the  respective  parts  to  bo  pcrformeil  at  llie 
meeting.  During  their  absence,  the  ladies 
continued  sipping  at  their  cups,  and  were  en- 
gaged in  the  frivolous  chat  which  among 
church-members  becomes  almost  religious  un- 
der the  mild  inspiration  of  Young  Hyson. 

Mrs.  Mannors  made  some  anxious  intpiij-ies 
about  Mr.  Capel.  Ho  had  not  yet  returned 
from  the  circuit,  but  was  expected  every  iiio- 
raent.  She  wished  to  let  him  know  how 
pleased  lier  husband  felt  that  ho  consented  to 
make  lier  house  his  homo  for  a  season.  She 
contented  herself  in  the  mean  time,  however, 
by  edifying  her  sisters  with  the  relation  of  a 
very  strange  dream  she  had  had  since  her  first 
meeting  with  the  young  preacher,  and  she 
was  curious  to  know  what  would  be  his  inter- 
pretation. 

The  cliurcli  of  the  Rev.  Caleb  Howe,  the 
regular  Baptist  minister,  Avas  a  jjlainer  edifice 
than  St.  Andrew's,  but  fully  as  large,  aiid 
might  possibly  accommodate  a  greater  num- 
ber. Its  pews  were  not  so  richly  cushioned  as 
the  luxurious  dens  of  the  Presl\vterian  sanctu- 
ary, and,  therefore,  not  so  liable  to  be  injured 
during  demonstrations  at  religious  anniversa- 
;ries.  The  building  was  brilliantly  lighted  up ;  a 
••spacious  platform  had  been  erected  and  cover- 
ed with  rich  carpeting.  There  was  a  fine  arm- 
chair for  the  president,  and  a  small  table  at 
which  the  secretary  could  sit,  with  a  sufficient 
number  of  cliairs  for  the  acconinnxlation  of 
the  reverend  gentlemen,  and  other  speakers 
who  were  expected  to  address  the  meeting.  It 
was  yet  early  in  the  evening  ;  only  a  few  elder- 
ly persons  had  entered  the  pews,  and  several  la- 
dies of  the  congregation  werc*conipl(;ting  sun- 
dry little  arrangements  necessary  for  the  occa- 
sion. 

Tliere  were  two  large  arched  doorways  in 
front  of  the  building.  In  a  few  minu  „es,  there 
was  a  rush  of  persons  through  them,  who,  upon 
entering  the  cliurch,  hastily  took  possession 
of  the  front  seats  and  pews,  and  of  such  otlier 
places  as  would  afford  the  best  views  of  the 
different  speakers.  The  rush  continued.  In 
they  came,  disorderly  enough  ;  there  was  crush- 
ing and  crowding  for  any  spot  nearest  the 
platform,  and  with  many  jjersons  there  was  as 
little  propriety  of  manner  as  if  they  had  l)een 
jostling  each  other  at  a  circus.  The  respect 
usually  shown  for  the  house  of  the  Lord  now 
seemed  to  have  been  forgotten,  and  so  punctual 
was  the  attendance  on  this  particular  evening, 
that  in  about  half  an  hour  from  the  time  of 
tlie  first  rush,  th»  church  was  completely  filled 
in  every  part ;  even  standing-room  in  any  spot 
of  the  building  could  be  found  but  with 
great  difficulty.  There  was  a  perfect  jam  ; 
and  many  of  the  more  orderly  church-goers 
wondered,  no  doubt,  at  the  very  unusual  zeal 
or  fervor  exhibited  by  such  a  number  of  pro- 
fessed ('hristians. 

There  was  not,  however,  the  same  hurry 
shown  to  occupy  the  platform;  the  chairs 
were  yet  vacant ;  and  although  there  were  a 
;iiew  elders  and  deacons  present,  tliey  merely 


stood  conv<Tsmg  in  a  quiet  corner,  as  if  await 
ing  orders.^  There  were  none  of  tlu!  rulers 
yet  to  be  seen,  unless  the  Uev.  Mr.  How(;.  the 
l>astor  of  the  church,  might  be  called  one  of 
that  class.  Ho  was  of  course  there  to  receive 
those  who  were  about  to  lienor  h's  tabernacle  ; 
and  lest  there  should  Ik;  any  show  of  impa- 
tience exhibited  by  the  expectant  crowd,  lie 
directed  the  choir  to  sing  an  anthem.  The 
trained  voices  were  soon  heard  ;  but  before  the 
anthem  was  ended,  the  Kev.  Doctor  Buster 
had  been  allotted  tlie  most  conspicuous  jdacn 
on  the  carpeted  elevati<m.  He  was  followed 
or  attendc^d  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cami)bell,  and  ono 
or  two  others.  The  doctor  had  scarcely  been 
seated  before  the  Rev.  Jonah  Hall  took  up  a 
positiim,  and,  immediately  afterward,  the  Rev. 
James  Baker,  Mr.  Capel,  and  the  secretary, 
took  their  seats  upon  the  platform.  As  each 
minister  made  his  appearance,  he  made  rather 
a  formal  bow  to  his  clerical  brethren,  and  a 
kind  of  partisan  greeting  could  be  heard  hero 
and  there  from  people  in  the  pews,  though 
not  sufficiently  loud  to  attract  any  particular 
attention. 

Other  preachers  liad  arrived ;  every  thing 
was  now  ready.  The  difl'erent  ministers  and 
speakers  were  seated  like  enthroned  saints  be- 
fore tlie  assembly,  and  a  deej)  sihrnce  prevail- 
ed, something  of  the  same  nature  as  the  omi- 
nous stillness  which  it  is  said  precedes  for  a 
short  time  an  impending  battle,  while  the 
combatants  stand  ranged  before  each  other 
awaiting  the  dread  command  for  the  begin- 
ning of  deadly  strife. 

Tho  Rev.  Mr.  Howe,  pastor  of  the  chiuch, 
stei)ped,  at  last,  to  the  front  of  the  secretary's 
table  and  gave  out  a  hymn.  He  read  it  slow- 
ly, and  then  the  choir,  aided  by  a  few  of  the 
ministers  and  by  several  voices  in  the  body  of 
the  church,  sung  it  through.  Mr.  Howe  then 
called  on  tlie  Rev.  Andrew  Campbell  to  ofRjr 
up  a  prayer.  That  gentleman  stood  up,  and 
having  piously  closed  his  eyes  and  lifted  his 
hand,  began  a  prayer  which  for  genuine  fer- 
vency could  not  be  surpassed.  He  alluded  to 
the  gross  darkness  which  once  prevailed  over 
the  whole  earth,  and  to  the  great  and  glorious 
effects  of  the  Gospel  in  enlightening  tlio  hu- 
man mind,  and  in  dispelling  the  clouds  of 
error  and  superstition  which  in  times  past  had 
oversliadowed  the  world.  He  spoke  of  tho 
salutiiry  influence  of  Christianity  on  the  licai-t, 
and  of  its  power  in  softening  and  liumanizing 
men  who  were  by  nature  and  habit  hardened 
in  iniquity.  Without  the  Gospel,  what  would 
the  world  be,  how  deplorable  the  condition  of 
niiinkind  ;  but  what  blessed  results  had  follow- 
ed in  its  footsteps.  Now,  the  scoft'er  and  un- 
believer could  witness  its  efficacy  in  bringing 
together  men  who  were  once  aliens  ;  in  mak- 
ing men  of  every  land  and  clime  love  each 
other  with  childlike  simplicity,  and  in  estab- 
lishing a  spirit  of  union  and  harmony  among 
all  who  became  subject  to  its  divine  influence. 
Yes,  it  was  the  i)roud  boast  of  Christianity 
that  it  was  peculiarly  the  religion  of  peace 
and  love. 

Tho  reverend  gentleman  toiled  for  somo 
time  through  the  various  repetitions  of  his 
prayer:  he  was  felt  to  be  tedious;  but  lie, 
worthy  man,  was  almost  tearfully  affected  by 


i 


■i 


EXETER   HALL. 


,  as  if  await 
f  tli<i  rulers 
r.  IIowc.  till! 
alli!(l  one  of 
re  to  receive 
i  tabornaclo ; 
ivr  of  impa- 
it  crowd,  lie 
itliem.  The 
it  before  the 
)ctor  Buster 
icuous  place 
vas  followed 
bell,  and  one 
I'arcely  been 
11  took  up  a 
rd,  the  Rev. 
le  pecretary, 
m.  As  each 
made  rather 
thren,  and  a 
3  heard  here 
!ws,  thouffh 
y  particular 

every  thinj; 
inisters  and 
cd  saints  he- 
nce prevail- 

aa  the  omi- 
icedes  for  a 
!,  while  the 

each  other 
r  the  begin- 

the  church, 
secretary's 
read  it  slow- 
.  few  of  the 
the  body  of 
Howe  then 
3eU  to  offer 
ood  up,  and 

lifted  his 
genuine  fer- 
e  alluded  to 
vailed  over 
nd  glorious 
ing  the  hu- 

clouds  of 
les  past  had 
)ok()  of  the 
n  the  heart, 
uimanizing 
it  hardened 
what  would 
ondition  of 
had  follow- 
er and  un- 
n  bringing 
in  luak- 

love  each 
d  in  ostab- 
ony  among 
o  influence, 
.'hristianity 
l>n  of  peace 

i  for  Bomo 
ions  of  hin 
18 ;  but  lie, 
affected  by 


a; 


the  solemn  sound  of  his  own  words,  and  no 
doubt  liiaiiy  i)ersons  in  the  chun;h  followed 
liirn  in  his  pious  ejaculations.  But  there  were 
two  or  three  friends  near  him.  who,  although 
in  tiie  various  attitudes  of  devotion  most  ap- 
proved of  by  their  resj)ective  sects,  did  not 
seem  to  heed  his  jKitition,  but  were  intently 
watching  the  peculiar  expression  of  his  face. 
The  Uev.  James  Baker  knelt  on  one  side  of 
him.  whil(i  the  Kev.  Jonah  Hall  stood  in  the 
opposite  direction  ;  and,  aUhotigh  neither  of 
the  ministers  could  see  the  other,  their  steady 
ffazo  was  fixed  on  the  imjRirtuning  ])asti)r  of 
Bt.  Andrew's  as  if  perfe(!tly  astonished  by  the 
liberality  of  his  address,  or  at  some  personal 
singularity  which  seemed  to  engage  their 
whole  attention. 

When  the  prayer  was  ended,  another  an- 
them was  sung  Ijy  the  choir  with  good  effect ; 
and  at  the  conclusion  of  this  service,  the  sec- 
retary intimated  that,  as  the  president  was 
unavoidably  absent,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
appoint  a  chairman,  in  order  that  the  riiport 
might  bo  read  and  the  business  of  the  eve- 
ning forwar.led. 

lie  had  scarcely  finished  these  words  before 
several  persons  started  up,  each  as  if  deter- 
mined upon  naming  a  different  gentleman  for 
chairman.  This  was  the  cause  of  some  con- 
fusion, as  nobody  could  be  distinctly  heard. 
At  last,  during  a  momentary  pause,  the  Kev. 
Mr.  Baker  rose,  and  moved  that  Thomas  Bol- 
ster, Esq.,  take  the  chair. 

Mr.  \Vesley  Jacobs,  a  local  preacher,  second- 
ed the  motion. 

Mr.  Jolin  Tliom])son,  a  deacon  of  the  Regu- 
lar Baptists,  said  he  regretted  that  such  a  mo- 
tion had  b<!en  made ;  it  was  a  great  breach 
of  docorum  to  nominate  any  other  than  the 
vice-president ;  it  was  his  place  to  take  tlu* 
chair  in  the  absence  of  the  president.  He 
thought  tlie  motion  of  Mr.  Baker  was  signifi- 
cant ;  it.  boded  no  good  to  the  society.  He 
•would  th(Tetbre  move  in  amendment  that  the 
vice-president  do  take  the  chair. 

Tie  Rev.  Doctor  Buster  said  it  was  a  very 
unusual  thing  indeed  to  exclude  at  a  public 
meeting  any  ofUcer  from  his  proper  place. 
Tlie  yjosition  of  cliairman  was  duo  this  eve- 
ning to  the  vice-president,  and  he  would  second 
the  amendment. 

There  was  then  a  great  (mtcry  on  the  plat- 
form. The  Revs.  Baker,  Campbell.  Dr.  Bus- 
ter, and  others,  all  vociferating  together,  either 
for  or  agaihst  the  amendment ;  while,  at  the 
same  time,  strong  symptoms  of  excitement 
were  manifest  among  the  peo])le. 

Shouts  of  "  Motion,  motion,  motion"  were 
now  hoard  arouad ;  and  the  secretary  after  some 
dehp'    and    much    altercation    declared    the 
amendment  carried,  and  called  on  Mr.  Thomas  ] 
Johnson,  the  vice-president,  to  take  the  chair. 

A  sctmo  of  great  confusion  now  ensued  ; 
peop'o  in  different  parts  of  the  church  were 
using  loud,  angry  words;  and  the  wild  and 
rapid  gesticulations  of  many  almost  terrified 
the  trreater  number  of  ladies  present. 

The  vice-president  then  moved  toward  the 
chair,  bit  it  was  pulled  aside  just  as  he  was 
going  to  take  his  seat,  and  he  would  have 
fallen  violently,  were  it  not  for  the  readiness 


and  activity  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hall  in  arresting 
his  backward  descent. 

The  Rev.  Ca'eb  Howe  cried  out,  "  Order,  or- 
der, order !"  and  declared  that  such  conduct 
was  most  disgraceful.  He  was  going  on  to 
speak,  but  fresh  cries  of  "  ("hair, chair, chair!" 
obliged  him  to  retire  without  being  further 
heard. 

The  vice-president  at  last  became  seated ;  but 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Baker  in  an  excited  manner  im- 
mediately cried  out ;  "  I  protest  against  this 
decision.  The  chairman  has  not  yet  been 
fairly  appointed ;  I  move  that — " 

Hero  the  uproar  increased  to  such  an  extent 
that  many  left  the  pews  and  got  upon  tho 
platform,  which  was  now  nearly  crowded. 
Doctor  Buster  and  the  Rev.  Jonah  Hall  stood 
face  to  face,  as  if  boldly  defying  each  other,  and 
using  gestures  which  might  lead  one  every 
moment  to  expect  that  the  argument  between 
these  brethren  was  not  going  to  bo  entirely 
decided  by  mere  noisy  words. 

The  vice-president,  in  order  the  better  to  at- 
tract attention,  now  stood  on  tho  chair,  and 
winding  about  his  arms,  loudly  demanded  to 
be  heard  even  for  a  few  moments.  He  must 
have  had  some  courage  to  do  this ;  for  he  was 
swayed  about  on  his  narrow  standing  place 
and  one  might  expect  every  instant  to  see  him 
fall  over  on  the  heads  of  the  reverend  comba- 
tants by  whom  he  was  surrounded. 

"  If  you  are  Christians,  I  demand  to  bo 
heard,  I  wish  to  say  a  few  words.  I  will  not 
detain  you.    Let  me  say  only  a — " 

The  Rev.  Doctor  Buster  fairly  staggered 
under  *he  load  of  humanity  that  had  just 
flopped  into  his  arms.  The  poor  vice-presi- 
dent was  as  much  astonished  at  the  suddenness 
of  his  own  descent.  There  was  no  time  for 
apology,  and  ho  as  suddenly  remounted  the 
chair  ;  and  while  the  doctor  was  trying  to  re- 
cover his  surprise  and  look  calm,  the  vice-presi- 
dent again  demanded  the  right  to  be  heard  for 
a  few  moments. 

Appearances  were  now  becoming  more 
favorable  for  him.  Voices  from  all  sides  were 
heard,  and  the  words  "  Hear  him,  hear  him !" 
came  so  fast  and  loud,  that  all  seemed  willing 
for  a  new  issue  by  hearing  somebody, 

Tho  vice-president  then  said,  that  it  had 
been  objected  that  he  should  occupy  the  chair 
at  that  meeting.  Why  such  an  objection  was 
raised,  he  couUl  not  say.  He  did  not  wish  to 
claim  any  right  to  dictate,  but  tliis  he  did 
know,  that  in  any  other  place,  or  on  any  other 
occasion,  or  among  tho  most  worldly  people, 
more  respect  would  Iwive  been  shown  to  any 
one  occupying  the  position  of  vice-president 
of  a  society  than  had  been  shown  to  him  by 
that  assembly  of  Gospel  ministers  and  profess- 
ing Christians  ;  even  the  well-known  decency 
and  decorum  observed  among  open  unbelievers 
should  put  them  to  shame.  The  usages  of 
p]xeter  Hall  Avere  entirely  different ;  such  con- 
duct would  not  be  tolerated  there  for  a  mo- 
ment. The  professed  object  of  the  meeting 
that  evening  was  to  promote  tho  circulation  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures;  but  it  was  apparent  ths*; 
that  was  not  tho  sole  object  of  all  present. 
If  a  sectarian  battle  had  to  be  fought  in  that 
place,  he  would  not  be  tho  umpire ;  neither 


S6 


EXETER    HALL. 


Vu 


would  lio  he  tlio  8tftn(lnrd-l)carr'r  for  any  party. 
Up  only  Haw  nn  array  of  sect  ajjainst  Hcct,  and 
not  a  union  of  well  disjioHed  men.  lie  wf)uld 
now  leave  the  chair,  for  he  was  painixl  to  see 
Christianity  so  de^adud  by  its  professed 
friends. 

"  Then  leave  it  at  onne,"  slionted  some  one 
at  his  elbow,  after  which  there  was  cheering 
and  hisses. 

The  Kcv.  Mr.  "Baker  a^jain  called  lustily  for 
his  nominee,  Mr.  Bolster.  "  I  aj;ain  demand 
that  Mr.  Bolster  take  the  rhair." 

The  noise  was  now  much  increa-i^ed  ;  there 
wore  hootinjTS  and  catcalls  from  several  parts  ; 
and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Howe  once  more  tried  to  gay 
somethinjr.  but  could  not  {jet  a  hearinjj. 

The  Rev.  Jonah  Hall  here  rushed  to  the 
front,  raisinjr  nnd  tlourishinj;  his  shut  fist ;  he 
wanted  to  know  if  British  law  would  not  i)ro- 
tect  them  in  their  just  rights  ;  he  wanted  to 
know  if — A  concert  of  yells  prevented  another 
word  from  beinff  heard,  and  after  a  continued 
strufrpfle  with  the  discordant  crowd  b  'fore  him, 
lie  was  forced  to  retire  ;  but  all  the  while 
made  desperate  efforts  to  raise  liis  voice  high- 
er and  hi<rher. 

The  platform  was  now  one  scene  of  confu- 
sion. Doctor  Buster  still  sat  with  an  apparent 
stubborn  indifference  to  what  was  {join*?  on ; 
lie  cast  occasional  side  {jlances  at  his  Reverend 
brothers  Hall,  and  Baker,  and  thought  what 
a  relief  it  v/ould  then  bo  to  him  could  lie  con- 
sistently throw  asidr;,  but  for  a  few  moments, 
his  wearied,  injurwl  dijrnity,  and  give  these 
irritatinn;  l)retliren  a  slijfht  evidence  of  his 
physical  power — even  of  his  rifjht  arm  and 
shut  fist — or  even  the  layinj;  on  of  but  one 
liand,  that  they  lonjEf  mifjlit  remember.  But 
this  could  not  be  ;  and  the  doctor  still  sut 
lookinpr  quietly  at  the  8ideli<?hts — (me  would 
think  the  most  patient  of  men — heroically  in- 
different to  the  squabbles  of  contendinff  cler- 
gy and  official  members.  Yes,  there  the  doc- 
tor sat  in  exemplary  forbearance,  as  the  distin- 
guished moderator  of  the  General  Assembly. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Campbell  was,  however,  very 
much  affitated.  He  had  for  the  last  half  hour 
made  several  attempts  to  speak ;  but  as  sure  as 
he  began,  his  wo  Is  were  drowned  in  groans, 
and  hisses,  and  ytlls,  innumerable  ;  one  could 
see  his  lii)S  and  jaws  going,  in  a  vain  effort  to 
make  himself  heard  ;  yet,  after  having  manful- 
ly faced  the  storm,  making  the  best  use  of  his 
most  practiced  frowns,  he  had  to  retire  in  con- 
fusion from  shouts  of  laughter.  What  made 
his  case  worse  was,  that  by  some  means  in  the 
mett'C  one  of  the  glasses  of  his  spectacles  got 
knocked  out ;  and  as  he  violently  waved 
and  nodded  his  head  about,  the  remaining 
glass  gave  his  face  a  singular  appearance  as 
if  he  were  trying  to  wink  continually  with 
but  one  glistening  eye. 

Again,  cries  and  veils  came  from  all  parts 
of  the  church :  "  Chair,  chair !"  "Campbell !" 
"  Bolster !"  "  Buster !"  "  Baker !"  "  Hall !"  and 
then  there  was  a  waving  of  hats  and  hand- 
kerchiefs ;  and  even  many  of  the  ladies  now 
caught  the  excitement,  and  held  up  their 
hands,  waving  away  violently  whenever  a 
favorite  name  was  shouted. 

It  was  now  felt  by  nearly  all  present  who 
could  still  think  with  any  calmness  within  the 


'circle  of  such  n  babel  that  to  try  and  hold  a 
meeting  that  night,  and  in'thnt  church,  wt\s, 
or  would  be,  an  utter  iuipossil)ility.  Witii  the 
exception  of  Mr.  Ciq)el,  and  another  young 
minister,  «'very  i)reacher,  and  deacon,  and  el- 
der in  the  place  was  as  i-xcittil  and  as  ready 
f«r  fight  as  his  neighlior  ;  and  the  continued 
shouting,  and  laughter,  and  confusion  in  the 
body  of  the  church  was  almost  «leafeninjr 
Tho  secretary  had  prudently  bundled  up  his 
books  and  jiapers,  and  stepped  down  from  tlu? 
platform,  anxious  to  push  through  the  agitated 
mob  that  was  still  crushing  and  crowding. 
With  some  difficulty  he  was  permitted  to  forc(5 
his  way  to  a  side  iloor,  where  he  and  a  few 
others  found  egress  from  the  building,  and 
who  were,  no  doubt,  glad  to  reach  the  open  air 
again. 

At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings,  when  near- 
ly all  were  satisfied  that  it  would  be  useless 
to  try  to  transact  any  busine.ss,  perhaps  tlu^ 
only  person  then  within  the  church  who  could 
say  with  any  effect,  "Peace,  b«!  still !"  now  ad- 
vanced toward  the  secretary's  tabh).  There 
was  no  trace  of  either  fear  or  excitement  upon 
his  countenance ;  he  was  perfectly  calm,  and 
his  very  appearance  created  such  an  interest 
in  his  favor  that  all  seemed  anxious  to  hear 
him  speak.  There  was  a  lull  in  the  storm, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  breathing  of  an  in- 
fant might  have  been  hoard,  so  great  was  tl>e 
sudden  sf.llness. 

Mr.  t  apel  then  stood  before  the  people,  and 
in  a  low,  but  audible  voice,  addressed  them. 

He  said  ho  was  but  a  stronger,  and  he 
might  sriv  in  a  strange  lan.i.  He  had  Imt 
lately  left  his  own  country  to  labor  in  their 
favored  island,  and  in  the  vineyard  of  tho 
Lord,  among  the  followers  of  Knox,  and  Bax- 
ter, and  Wesley.  He  did  not  come  as  the 
supjiorter  of  sectarianism.  He  did  not  want 
to  know  who  wa.i  for  a  Panl,  or  for  an  Apol- 
los,  or  for  a  Cephas ;  but  who  was  for  Christ. 
He  appeared  that  night  before  them  as  his 
unworthy  servant,  to  say  that  he  was  grieved 
at  the  great  disunion  manifested,  and  that  it 
was  plain  to  perceive  that  they  seemed  entire- 
ly forgetful  of  the  great  object  for  which  they 
had  ostensibly  met.  As  it  was,  it  would  be 
now  better  to  depart  in  peace,  until  some 
more  gracious  opportunity  would  bring  them 
together.  He  felt  pained  to  say  one  word  by 
way  of  reproach,  but  he  must  speak  plainly, 
and  say,  that  God  was  dishonored  among  his 
own  people,  and  in  his  own  house.  He  would 
now  ask  all  present  to  retire,  and  not  by  any 
further  attempts  at  discord  to  bring  the  Gos- 
pel into  contempt  and  give  a  triumph  to  un- 
believer'5. 

He  spoke  some  time  longer  in  the  same 
strain ;  and  his  Avords  had  the  desired  effect 
with  a  number  of  persons.  A  great  many 
immediately  left  the  building  ;  but  the  spirit 
of  contention  was  »»ot  yet  subdued,  and  the 
speaker  no  sooner  took  his  seat  tlian  some 
one  cried  out : 

"A  speech  from  Doctor  Buster! — Buster, 
wake  up !" 

The  learned  doctor  felt  indignant  to  be 
thus  rudely  called  out  to  face  a  rabble ;  but  ho 
apparently  suppressed  every  feeling  of  agita- 
tion by  merely  turning  his  elegant  eye-glass 


EXETER    HALL. 


n 


nncl  lioM  a 
hurcli.  wnrt, 
Witlitliw 
tluT  younjj 
■f)n,  and  el- 
id  as  rea<iy 
e  conliniu'd 
ision  in  tlio 
d«'art'ninjr 
llt'd  up  liis 
\n  from  tlin 
Ihcafritfttcd 
1  cTowdinfj. 
tied  to  forci! 
'  and  a  Ibw 
lildinj?,  and 
tlio  open  air 

when  near- 
l  1)0  useless 
perlinps  IIk^ 
ii  who  could 
II !"  noAv  ad- 
bh;.  There 
enicnt  upon 
y  calm,  and 
an  interest 
oua  to  hear 
1  the  storm, 
nff  of  an  in- 
reat  was  t^ 

'  people,  and 

ised  tliem. 

;er,  and  he 

[le  had  but 

or  in  their 

•ard  of  the 

X,  and  Hax- 

ine  as  the 

not  want 

an  Apol- 

br  Christ. 

em  as  his 

IS  frrieved 

and  that  it 

nied  entirc- 

which  they 

would  be 

until  some 

bring  them 

ne  word  by 

ak  plainly, 

among  his 

lie  would 

ot  by  any 

g  the  Gog- 

nph  to  un- 

the  same 

ired  effect 

eat  many 

the  spirit 

,  and  the 

than  some 

! — Buster, 

ant  to  be 
le ;  but  ho 
T  of  agita- 
eye-glass 


in  the  direction  from  where  the  voice  had 
pn  weeded. 

Sliituts  were  again  renewe<l  for  "Truster!" 
"Haixei-:"  '•('ami>b(ll!"  "Hull!"  Numbers 
Wert'  Uivving  the  cliurcii  as  fiwt  as  they  could  ; 
nearly  all  the  ministers  hud  left,  but  there 
weri^  many  who  renuiined  jeering,  shouting, 
and  huigliiug,  dcterniined.  as  they  said,  "  to 
Bi'A'.  I  he  tini  out."  The  <'hur<*h  luid  now  a  dim 
appearance  ;  it  was  getting  giiMiiiiy,  as  the  gas 
had  b«;i'ii  turni"*!  otl'  in  many  places  :  but  there 
still  lingered  on  the  platform  a  s«*t  of  n'ckless 
fellows,  as  if  exju'cting  something  else  to  oc- 
cur, and  t  lieir  expectations  were  stMm  gratified. 

Tliere  wjis  on<;  of  these,  a  strong  partisan 
of  Mr.  Haker,  who  was  an  ade((t  at  mimicry, 
niid  who  tried,  as  if  on  a  stage,  to  give  a  bur- 
les((ue  representation  of  the  »ir  and  manner 
of  Doctor  Buster,  and  (o  turn  the  moderator 
into  ridicule.  This  conduct  was  not  approved 
of  by  at  least  one  stout  man,  who,  with  a 
heavy  stick,  struck  the  mock  actor  a  violent 
blow,  ami  was  going  to  repeat  the  exju'ri- 
nient,  when  in  a  nu)ment  there  was  a  rush  of 
excited  jjersons,  and  the  platform  was  at  once 
converted  into  something  like  a  prize  ring. 
Two  angry  men  wens  struggling  tor  posses- 
sion of  the  stick,  and  there  was  a  swaying  to 
and  fro  among  a  knot  of  men,  pushing  and 
lycking  in  all  directions, 

Xt  this  time,  the  noise  could  l)e  hearti  some 
distance  from  the  chundi ;  seats  were  knwked 
about,  ])e\v-doora  pulled  off,  and  books  torn  ; 
and  were  it  not  for  the  timely  arrival  of   a 

Ijarty  of  constables,  the  building  itself  might 
uive  been  much  injured.  The  Sfictarian  revel 
was  over ;  no  gtiod  had  been  done,  no  dele- 
gate had  been  cho.sen,  but  the  reverend  chief 
actors  in  tluur  jealousy  had  determined,  each 
for  his  i)arty,  to  8upix)rt  indejuindently  and 
more  fully,  with  Ciod's  help,  the  noble  cause  of 
cheap  Bibles  at  the  next  great  anniversary  in 
Exeter  Hall.* 

When  Mr.  Baker  got  home  that  night,  he 
felt  highly  ])leased,  and  in  the  best  humor. 
M'ith  his  o))en  hand  he  gave  his  wife  a  hearty 
elap  between  the  shoulders,  and  said  :  "  I  told 
you  we  w«)uld  be  read}'  for  C'ampbell.  Ha, 
ha!  I  wonder  what  tlio  great  Dr.  Buster 
now  thinks  of  ue !  He  tries  to  make  others  be- 
lieve that  Methodist  intiuence  is  waning,  1 
fancy  his  notion  is  a  little  changed  already. 
Let  them  send  a  delegate  to  Exeter  Hall,  and 
we  will  show  ourselves  there  too,  by  way  of 
no  thanks.  (t(m1  will  ])rosper  us,  in  si)ite,  of 
all  theycjmdo.  Won't  ])oor  Campbell  pray 
for  us  after  this?    Ha,  ha!" 

Mrs.  Baker,  good  woman,  though  not  at  all 
dissatisfied  at  the  residt  of  the  meeting,  was 
yet  more  guarded  in  her  exjiressions;  she  saw 
that  Air.  Cai)el  was  very  silent ;  she  knew  that 
young  preachers,  like  fresh  converts,  are  for  a 
time  very  ardent  and  fraternal,  and  she  did 
not  wish  that  any  thing  should  l)e  said  to 
make  him  feel  that  her  husl)and  was  too  sec- 
ftariau,  or  forgetful  of  his  position  as  a  Cliris- 
"tian  minister.  Nevertheless,  she  was  greatly 
pleased  that  the  Presbyterian  scheme  was  de- 
'featcd,  and  her  faith  grew  stronger  and 
.^'Stronger  in  the  God  of  Wesleyanism. 

After  Mr.  CajK^l  had  retired  to  his  ro<  m,  he 

♦  See  Note  B. 


I  felt  like  one  that  had  been  dreaming.  He 
fancied  that  he  still  sat  on  the  platform  ;  he 
saw  the  |)eoplo  before  him  ;  lu!  saw  the  glare 
of  lights,  and  he  again  heard  the  wild  confu- 
sion. Was  it  all  a  dream  ?  He  could  hardly 
realize  that  he  had  been  to  a  church  where  a 
pidilic  meeting  was  to  have  been  held  by  se- 
rious Christian  men,  and  that  from  the  hatred 
of  sectfi  tin;  work  of  the  Lord  had  been  en- 
tirely disregarded,  in  order  to  secure  a  secta- 
rian triumph.  Could  he  believe  that  such 
loud  ])rofes8ion  should,  after  all,  be  but  as  "  a 
sounding  brass  or  tinkling  cymbal  ;"  that 
men  who  loved  their  Bibles,  and  who  prayed 
and  wept  for  sinners,  should  exhibit  such  ha- 
tred toward  each  other?  Was  this  the  grand 
result  of  what  the  Gosptd  had  done  for  thctn 
— was  this  CHiristianity  V  And  if  that  (insjicl 
had  thus  failed  in  controlling  the  jui;..'lses  of 
the  semi-civilized  of  Britain,  whai  v  ui  d  it  do 
among  barbarians  at  Madagascar?  He  had 
often  discovered  hypocritical  ])rofe.ssors  of  re- 
ligion, but  he  did  not  expect  to  witness  such 
actual  jealfjusy  and  hatred  among  a  class, 
numy  of  whom  had  made  au  open  dcolaratioa 
of  faith,  and  who  had  sohimnly  testified  that 
they  felt  moved  by  the  Spirit  of  God  to  go  and 
preach  the  (lospel.  Were  these  men  mad  or 
deluded?  Why  were  there  so  many  creeds, 
even  among  Protestants,  bitterly  anathema- 
tizing each  other  as  teachers  of  error  ?  If  the 
Scriptures  were  truth,  and  if  the  truth  was  so 
plain,  why  so  nmch  contention — why  such  di- 
versity of  oi)inion?  He  then  dwelt  upon  the 
historical  havoc  caused  by  Christianity,  and 
the  solemn  question  arose :  What  has  the  Bi- 
ble done  for  mankind? 

In  times  of  great  doubt  or  perplexity,  Mr. 
Capel  often  resorted  to  the  common  practice  of 
opening  his  Bible,  and  reading  the  first  pas- 
sage or  text  that  met  his  eye.  In  doing  this, 
he  sometimes  thought  that  he  had  ftund 
many  comforting  assurances.  He  now  ojjened 
the  "  inspired  book"  in  several  places,  but  con- 
flicting verses  only  caused  greater  dep-sssion. 

"  No  man  ha''\  seen  Ood  at  any  time."    John  1  :  18. 
"  For  I  have  gceii  (tod  liicc  to  llice,  and  my  lil'e  is  pre- 
served."   Gen.  32:30. 

"  And  God  saw  every  thin<»  that  he  had  made,  and 
behold  it  was  very  coed."    Gen.  1  :  31. 

•'  And  it  reixaitecfthe  Lord  that  lie  had  made  man  ou 
the  earth,  ana  it  jjrieved  him  at  his  heart."    Gen.  G  :  6, 

"  For  I  am  the  Lord ;  I  change  not,"    Mai.  3 :  6. 

"For  God  is  not  the  author  of  confusion,  but  of 
peace."    1  Cor.  14  :  ;W. 

"  I  make  peace  and  create  evil,  I  the  Lord  do  all  these 
thinjin."    I*.  4.5  :  7. 

"  Out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Most  High  proceedeth  not 
evil  and  good."    Lam.  3  :  18. 

"  For  every  one  that  asketh  receiveth,  and  he  that 
Fcoketh  fludeth,  and  to  him  tliat  knoeketh,  it  shall  be 
opened."    Matt.  7:8. 

"  Then  shall  tliey  call  upon  me.  but  I  will  not  answer; 
tliev  fliall  Keek  me  early,  but  they  shall  notflud  me.'* 
ProV.  1 :  28. 

"  Let  no  man  say  when  he  i?  tempted.  I  am  tempted 
of  (Jod  :  for  God  can  not  l)e  ti!mj)t.(!d  wiih  evil,  neither 
tempteth  he  any  man."    .Tas.  1 :  13. 

'•  And  it  cAme  to  pass  after  theue  tilings  that  God  did 
tempt  Ahruham."    Gen.  22  : 1. 

"  If  any  of  you  lack  wiFdoui,  let  him  a^k  of  God  that 
giveth  to  all  meu  liberally,  and  upbraidoth  not ;  and 
ft  shall  be  given  him."    Jas.  1:5. 


88 


EXETER    HALL. 


I 


"  no  hath  blinded  their  ovcs  and  hardened  their 
hoart,  that  they  should  not  nee  with  their  eves  nor 
understand  with  their  heart,  and  be  converted,  and  I 
should  heal  them.    John  IS  :  40. 

"  Who  will  have  all  men  to  bo  saved,  and  to  come 
unto  tlie  knowledge  of  the  truth:'    1  Tim.  a  :  4. 

"  And  for  this  cause  (Jod  shall  send  tliem  stronc:  de- 
lasion  that  they  should  believe  a  lie:'    2  Thess.  2:11. 

Gofl  delude  men  unto  the  belief  of  a  lie! 
Could  this  be  so  ?  lln  paused  a  lonj?  time,  and 
liis  finjjor  still  touched  the  passajre  he  had 
just  read.  If  the  Lord  is"  abundant  in  good- 
ness and  truth,"  can  he  or  will  he  ensnare  a 
man  to  his  own  destruction?  This  Avas  what 
he  now  thouofht ;  and  the  contradictory  texts 
which  had  opened  to  him  seemed  to  rise  \\y> — 
a  horrible  cloud  of  doubt,  cold,  bleak,  and  des- 
olate. He  was  startled,  and  looked  eajrorly 
around  as  if  Jiopo  and  happiness  h.ad  left  him 
forever.  A^ain  he  ventured  to  seek  another 
text,  and  read : 

"  The  Lord  is  merciful  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger 
and  plenteous  in  mercy."    Ps.  103  :  8. 

'•  His  anger  endureth  but  a  moment."    I'.-*.  30 :  5. 

"  The  Lord  is  very  pitiful  and  of  tender  mercy.  Jas. 
5  :  11. 

"  For  his  mercy  endureth  forever."    1  Chron.  10  :  34. 

These  were  blessed  reassuring  words ;  and 
lie  opened  the  book  again. 

"  I  will  not  pitv.  nor  spare,  nor  have  mercy,  but  dc- 
strov."   Jer.  13  :  14. 

'•  If  I  whet  my  glittering  sword,  and  mine  hand  take 
hold  on  judgmcint,  I  will  render  vengeance  to  mine  ene- 
mies and  reward  them  that  hate  me.  I  will  make 
mine  arrows  drunk  witii  blood,  and  my  sword  siiall 
devour  tlesh  ;  and  that  with  the  blood  of'^  the  slaiii  and 
of  tlie  captives  from  the  beginning  of  revenges  upon 
the  enemy."    Dent. 

'•Depart  from  mc,  ye  cursed, into  everlasting  fire." 
Matt  25 :  41. 

Agan  he  relapsed  into  despondency !  For 
the  iirs'u  time  ho  began  to  think  whether  he 
could  really  love  an  omnipotent  Being  who 
was  so  im^dacablo.  He  closed  the  BilJle  and 
put  it  aside,  and  then  sat  Avith  his  head  re- 
clined or  the  table  until  it  was  far  in  the 
night,  thinking  of  the  crimes,  and  batthis,  and 
brutalities ;  and  of  the  butcheries,  murders, 
blood,  and  obscenities,  recorded  as  the  author- 
ized transactions  of  a  benevolent  Dt  'y.  He 
shuddcretl  at  the  fearful  record  ;  it  M'as  revolt- 
ing !  Was  there  blasplieray  on  his  lips  when 
ho  muttered,  "  (^ood  God!  It  is  like  the  rev- 
elation of  a  tiend !"  ?  Again  he  bent  his  head, 
and  us  the  siicctral  shadows  of  his  own 
thouo'htg  dosed  around  him,  he  beeanie 
startled  from  his  rev»;rie  of  skepticism,  to  re- 
tire langaldly  to  bed ;  and  the  clock  struck 
more  than  on",  tedious  hour  before  ho  could 
again  visit  the  smiling  friends  and  beautiful 
laud  of  his  dreams. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DtmiNd  the  forenoon  of  the  day  after  the 
disturbance  in  the  Baptist  church,  three  priests 
W(!r(>  leisurely  pacing  up  and  down  the  in- 
closed yard  connected  with  ihc  Koiiuin  Catholic 
chapel  at  Moorlields.  They  were  walking 
abreast,  and  only  the  middle  di^rgymnn  wf)re 
bis  sontane.  Ho  was  ri-uulug  a  morning 
paper  for  their  edification,  and  occasionally 
they  would  laugh  heartily  at  Bomo  ludicrous 


circumstance  in  the  narrntion.  Certain  ungod- 
ly correspondents  and  news-mongt>rs  had  sup- 
l)lied  exciting  accounts  of  the  fracas  at  the 
iiible  meeting,  and  the  burlesipie  of  the  cleri- 
cal actors  thereat  was  madi;  jjarticularly  ex- 
travagant The  ]>ricst  who  was  reading  the 
paper,  Fai'  .er  Thomas  McUlinn,  was  a\>()ut  fifty 
years  of  age,  a  stout,  low-sized  nuvn,  with  dark 
iiair.  He  had  a  very  red  face,  and  the  top  of 
his  nose  was  remarkably  tlorid  ;  and  when  he 
laughed,  he  displayed  a  8etf)f  teeth  wliich  with 
ordinary  care  might  be  warrant(!d  to  last  him 
for  another  half-century.  He  was  a  ruddy, 
jovial,  good-natured  looking  person  ;  and  he 
had  to  utter  but  one  word  to  satisfy  you  of  his 
pure  Milesian  extraction.  His  ready  wit  and 
humor  were  genuine,  and  would  haVe  at  once 
obtained  for  him  the  standing  of  a  '"  rale  jolly 
Irish  gintleman"  even  though  appearing,  like 
many  of  his  predecessors,  as  a  missionary  from 
the  Emerald  Isle  to  the  heretical  and  de- 
luded iSassenach.  His  two  companions  were 
also  natives  of  the  same  country,  so  justly  re- 
puted for  its  hereic  men,  and  virtuous  women. 
"  Well,  begorra.  Father  Mick,"  said  he,  raising 
his  fist  antl  bringing  it  down  on  the  paper 
with  a  whop,  "  fast  day  and  all  as  it  is,  I'd  like 
to  dlirink  the  fellow'^  health  that  upset  the 
chairman  ;  it  was  so  nately  done  as  a  com- 
mencement.    Oh  !  divil  a  better." 

"  Faith,  I  wouldn't  mind  to  do  the  same 
myself,"  said  Father  Mick  Daily,  the  priest  on 
his  right,  "  even  if  it  should  com(!  to  the  ears 
of  the  bishop  that  the  dose  was  a  little  extra." 

"  By  my  sowl,"  said  Fatlier  Tom,  "  Buster,  as 
they  call  him,  musn't  have  felt  very  comfort- 
able with  such  a  fftn-noon  in  his  arms  ;  'twas  an 
atlecting  sight.  l)idn't  Cami)bell  cut  a  pretty 
figure  with  his  one  glass  eye  ?  Well,  bedad, 
but  it  was  a  beautiful  row  at  any  rate.  What 
a  blessing  it  was  to  S(>e  the  pack  of  haythens 
pitching  into  each  other  ;  and  if  it  wasn't  for 
the  cloth,  I  wouldn't  want  blotter  fun  than  to 
be  there  myself  'Tis  a  pity  the  ould  joker  of 
a  moderator  didn't  lave  the  sign  of  the  cross 
on  some  of  tliem  ;  but  sure  that  sign  isn't  in 
his  track,  and  never  will  be." 

"  And  d'ye  mind  the  Rev.  Jonah,"  said 
Father  Dennis  Lynch,  the  other  priest,  "  Jonah 
didn't  lave  them  have  their  own  way  f(-r  noth- 
ing. There's  a  dhrop  of  the  blood  i'n  that  fel- 
low, if  he  had  only  the  training.  He  stood  up 
b(,'i")re  the  modt'rator  in  rale  style.  That 
sani'!  Jonah  is  a  whale  in  himself,  and 
wouldn't  mind  taking  a  hand  in,  if  he  had  a 
good  Itacker." 

"  Och !  isn't  Baker  a  beauty,"  said  Father 
Tom;  "  swaddler  and  ranter  and  alias  he  is, 
he  is  al)le  tor  them.  He  gave  the  Knox  m(;n 
a  fidl  baker's  dozen  on  tlie  occasion.  How  the 
divil  did  he  escape  a  walloping  at  all  at  all '! 
It's  a  wonder  that  Bnsterdidn't  moderate  him 
with  a  p:i.r  tecum,  betune  the  eyes." 

"  But,  Father  Tom,  didn't  you  know  that 
CapelV"  askt.'d  Father  Mick. 

"  To  b(!  sure  \w  did,"  at  once  replied  the  Rev. 
Dennis  Lynch  ;  "he  used  lo  live  near  Blackpool, 
in  Cork." 

"  Oh  I  no ;  vou're  wrong,"  said  Fatlnir  Tom, 
"  Harry  Capitl's  fatli(>r  lived  on  Patrick  street  ; 
he  was  a  sa(liller;but  whin  I  knew  him,  he 
was  in  the  ])c,lice.  He  was  a  daycimt  creature 
enough  to  bo  among  Buch  a  gan^.   Many  a 


EXETER    HALL. 


89 


ertain  unp;od- 
ffurs  had  sup- 
Iriicas  at  the 
e  of  the  cleri- 
rticiilarly  cx- 
i  rcadiuf?  this 
vnH  u\»i)Ut  fifty 
an,  with  dark 
ud  the  top  of 
and  whon  he 
Iv  wliich  witli 
id  to  h\Ht  hhu 
was  n,  ruddy, 
rson  ;  and  lie 
isfy  you  of  his 
•eady  wit  and 

I  haVe  at  once; 
fa  '■  rale  jolly 
|)pfarin<x,  like 
issionary  from 
;ical  and  de- 
paniona  were 
%  so  justly  re- 
tuous  women. 
Liid  he,  raising 
on  the  paper 
s  it  is,  I'd  like 
lat  upset  the 
•ne  as  a  com- 

do  the  same 
,  the  priest  on 
n(!  to  the  ears 
a  Ihtle  extra." 
m, "  Buster,  as 
very  comfort- 
nns ;  'twas  an 

II  cut  a  pretty 
Well,  hedad, 

If  rate.  What 
of  haythens 
it  wasn't  for 
fun  than  to 
uld  joker  of 
)f  the  cro?s 
si<rn  isn't  in 


\  ( 


onnh,"   said 

iest,  "  Jonah 

way  f(«r  noth- 

xl  in  that  fel- 

II(!  stood  up 

style.      That 

iuisrlf,    and 

if  he  had  a 

said  Father 
all  as  ho  is,, 
10  Knox  m(;n 
on.  How  the 
it  all  at  all  1 

odr  rate  him 

know  that 

ied  the  Rev. 
ir  Blackpool, 

Father  Tom, 
trick  street ; 
lew  liira,  he 
lent  creature 
ng.   Many  a 


pot  of  Beamish  and  Crawford's  pf)rter  we  had 
totfotlier  bcfor.;  I  went  to  MayiDoth." 

"But,  wasn't  he  a  rale  paadircii?"  asked 
Father  Lynch. 

"  I'aiK'.reen  ?  Musha  ho  was,  and  he 
wasn't,"  repiiiui  Father  Tom.  "  Divil  u  mucli 
he  cared  wluit  In;  was,  at  any  nitc.  He's 
dead  now,  (iod  rest  his  sowl !  'Twould  be 
well  for  the  ould  sod  if  there  was  more  like 
Lim." 

"  Well,  isn't  this  Capel,  who  is  mentioned 
in  the  paper,  his  son  ?  and  if  ht>  is,  iiuw  the  mis- 
chief did  he  get  a.uonj^  the  swaildlersV" 

"Sure  you  know,"  replied  Father  Tom,  "  his 
ould  mother  was  always  amouj?  them,  and  nev- 
er aisy  whin  she  wasn't  psalm-sin<^hi<4- or  street 
begi^injj  for  theni  hunofry  thieves  of  preachers. 
Her  husband,  poor  Tom  Oaptd,  l(;ft  her  have 
her  own  way  with  the  ciiildron,  as  well  as 
with  every  thinj?  else.  Ihs  didn't  much  care  ; 
in  fact,  it  was  said  that  he  was  one  of  these 
free-thinkers  tiiat  are  now  so  ))lenty,  and  ho 
never  asked  whether  tjh".  went  to  a  Cathedral, 
or  Conventicle,  or  to  Quakers' meetint^  ;  she 
might  go  to  a  Synagogue  for  the  matter  of 
that,  lie  usi^d  to  say,  by  way  of  a  joke,  that  if 
there  was  anv  ditt'erence  they  were  all  alike. 
She,  of  coorse,  hoisted  the  children  away  with 
'  her.  But,  Uod  help  us  !  they're  all  dead 
now  ;    Harry  is  the  only  one  left." 

'"  Well,  isn't  hv,  a  swaddling  preacht  r,  doesn't 
lie  rant  ahmg  with  the  rest  t — Of  coorse  he's 
promoted  to  the  saddle-bags  T 

"  Well,  I  believe  he  is  ;  but  sure  his  mother 
wouldn't  let  him  rest  until  he  promised  to  go 
and  do  the  work  of  the  Lord,  rambling  about 
like  a  showman.  I  met  him  by  chance  the 
Otluir  day,  and  he  tould  luo  that  they  sent  him 
out  to  Hampstead  with  ould  Baker,  Someway, 
I  dim't  think  he  cares  for  that  wandering  kind 
of  a  life.  He's  liouest  in  his  error,  anyway; 
"Ihere's  a  good  deal  of  his  father  in  him,  and 
the  Lord  knows  what  he  may  be  yet.  But, 
Father  Dinny,"  said  the  priest,  lowerin/yr  his 
voice  to  seriousness,  "  he  is  now  like  oursL'Tves  ; 
'lie  is  just  what  circumstances  have  maile  him  ; 
exactly  so.  Ih;  has  hiul  no  control  over  the 
eircumstancos  of  his  birth,  of  his  country,  or 
of  his  religion  ;  he  is  now  what  he  was  brought 
up  to  be,  and  in  Turkey  he  might  have  been  p 
Mussulman,  or  in  India  he  might  have  bee'i  a 
Brahmin  or  a  I'arsi.'e  ;  and  so  might  we." 

"  Very  good.  Father  Ttun,  very  good  ;  if  the 
bishop  lieanl  all  that,  I  wonder  what  he'd 
think  of  one  of  his  priests?  He'il  make  j'ou 
Cry  '  incd  cttlp'o'  duri.ig  scdidu,  aeculornin." 

■' Bather.shin,  failii  ho  might,  Dinny;  but 
many  a  time,  in  my  own  (piiet  way,  I'vts  made 
the  bishop  stagger  a  little  himself,  ay,  just 
while  you'd  be  looking  al)out  you.  His  miuo 
doesn't  cover  an  incli  min*e  brain  than  he  got 
from  his  motln'r,  may  be  not  so  much  ;  and  if 
his  father  had  been  a  Quaker,  tiio  bishop,  in 
stead  of  wearing  a  mitre,  might  lignre  about 
with  a  broad  brimmed  hat  and  a  drab  coat, 
6.1,  Dinny'.'" 

"Bo  me  sowl,"  said  Father  Lynch,  "  you'll 
have  to  say  th  »  seven  penitenliul  psalms 
backward  for  this,  and  may  be  a  few  doziwi 
extra  jiiUcru  and  <toi;n  in  the  l)argain.  Och  ! 
what's  tile  use.  intalkingV  Sun;,  we  know  your 
ways.  But  faith,  Tom,  wo  must  be  going,  and 


we'll  expect  to  meet  you  at  five.      You  know 
w(!  can't  have  much  of  a  dinner  to-day — divil 
take  tliese  fasts — but  any  way,  if  we  don't  have 
any  thing  stronger  we'll  have  a  noggin  of 
holy  water  and  a  rosary  together.  And,  Father 
Tom,  acushla,  as  I   b'lieve  you've  got  some 
df'alings  with  the  Ould  Boy,  after  all  is  over, 
and  if  you're  able  to  stand,  I'll  exorcise  you." 
"  Faith  you  may,  Dinny  ;  but  if  I  was  to  re- 
!  turn  the  compliment,  after  the  job  was  done, 
I  might  only  hear  the  cackle  of  a  goose  in- 
stead of  a  yell  from  your  friend  with  the 
j  hoof  and  horns."    And  here,  with  mock  piety, 
Father  Tom  made  the  sign  of  ilie  cross  on  his 
forehead  with  the  thumb  of  his  right  hand. 
I      A  general  laugh  then  took  place  ;   the  two 
!  priests  went  their  way,  and  Father  Tom  Avas 
■  left  alone.     For  a  few  minutes  he  continued 
j  walking  rather  briskly  around  the  consecrated 
;  building ;  he  then  paced  more  leisurely,  and 
seemed  in  deep  thought,  as  if  bearing,"  some 
]  mental   burden  which  caused  him  anxiety ; 
and  lie  often  paused,  looking  down  intently  at 
the  hallowed  ground  upon  which  he  stood. 
!      The  Irish  Catholic  population  of  the  city  of 
Lond<m  is  very  large,  and  wherever  the  Irish 
j  i)eople  go,  the  priest  is  sure  to  follow.  Betweea 
■Aio  Irish  Catholic  and  his  priest,  there  has  ever 
existed,    not    merely  warm    friendship,    but 
j  strong  affection  ;  the  presence  of  a  priest  la 
I  !vn    Irish  neighborhood  is  almost  indispens- 
abte,  <\nd,  should  he,  as  is  asserted,  venture  on 
the  occasional  use  of  the  blackthorn  by  way 
of  argument,  or  as  an  incentive  for  the  per- 
formanco  of  duty,  mutiy  consider  it  his  privi- 
lege and  submit ;  while  with  others  loss  under 
control,  it  is  a  matter  which  can  be  soon  for- 
gotten.   As  a  general  rule,  it  is  only  regarded 
as  a  friendly  mode  of  persuasion  rather  than 
an  act  of  clerical  tyranny. 

Now,  throughout  the  city  of  London  there 
was  not  a  pf'iest,  ho  matter  what  his  degree, 
could  rival  Father  Tom  McGlinn  in  the  atfec- 
tions  of  t ho. 'Irish  Catholics;  he  was  beloved 
oven  by  children,  who,  it  must  bo  confessed, 
have  a  kini^  of  instinctive  dread  of  any  person 
w(niring  a.'soutane  ;  but  his  heart  overfiowod 
with  gooc|(nature,  and  children  forgot  that  lie 
was  a  priest  when  they  saw  him  smile.  Then 
ho  boasted  of  "  ould  Ireland,"  and  of  his 
countrymen,  and  of  Cork,  his  native  city  ;  and 
at  certain  times  when  he  grew  into  a  peculiar- 
ly soft  mood,  he  would  talk  and  sing  about 
the  "  Bells  of  Shandon,"  and  of  the  river  Loo, 
and  of  Sunday sAVell,  until  the  remem- 
brance of  these  fond  tilings  and  places  filled 
his  good-natured  eyes  with  big  tears  ;  and, 
priest  as  he  was,  he  felt  just  as  kindly  disposed', 
to  his  countrymen  of  all  creeds  as  if  they 
were  members  of  his  own  church.  Indeed,, 
after  all,  he  seldom  judged  of  a  man  by  his. 
nation  ;  nationality  was  an  idea  out  of  which 
he  tried  to  grow  :  but  on  occasions  when  hei 
used  to  recount  the  wrong.n  inflicted  by  Britaia^ 
ui>on  his  chuivli  and  country,  then  he  asserted. 
his  nationality,  am',  became  almost  vindic- 
tive. 

For  many  years  Father  Tom  officiated  iui 
Cork,  under  the  friendly  eye  of  Doctor  Mur- 
phy, its  Catholic  bishop  ;  but  after  the  death, 
of  that  prelate,  iie  took  a  notion  to  remove  to 
Loudon;   he  was  successful  in  obtaining  a>. 


40 


EXETER    HALL. 


H 
I  lift 


m 


good  parish,  and  amonj?  the  priests  as  well  as 
ainon<;  the  people  of  that  city  lie  became  a 
great  favorite.  If,  however,  he  had  many  of 
the  virtues  of  his  countrymen,  he  had  also  a 
few  of  their  failings.  Although  he  had  been 
intimate  for  a  long  period  with  the  late  Father 
Mathew,  and  had  expressed  an  approval  of 
his  temperance  principles,  yet,  with  regard  to 
self-indulgence  in  one  particular,  lie  never  had 
strength  of  mind  sufficient  to  turn  up  his  nose 
at  a  tuml)ler  of  hot  whisky-punch,  tliat  is 
to  say,  after  a  certain  hour  toward  evening. 
His  ailherence  to.  the  temperance  pledge,  if  ho 
ever  took  it,  only  lasted  during  the  excite- 
ment of  the  time,  and  like  a  majority  of  liis 
countrymen  he  relapsed  into  a  usage  almost 
canonical  among  the  clergy. 

He  was,  however,  a  little  singular  in  this 
respect,  he  seemed  to  have  his  appetite  under 
perfect  control  ;  for  no  human  being  could  in- 
duce him  to  touch  a  drop  of  strong  lic^uor  un- 
til after  the  clock  had  struck  tliree  in  the 
afternoon  ;  he  might  then  take  an  odd  tumbler 
immediately  before  dinner,  just  to  regulate 
his  appetite,  but  when  that  meal  was  over, 
particularly  if  he  had  a  few  genial  friends 
Avith  him,  he  would  resolutely  confine  his  legs 
mider  the  mahogany  and  drink  and  debate," 
and  debate  and  drink,  until  every  opponent 
was  silenced,  or  until  every  man  was  reduced 
to  a  state  of  blissful  oblivion.  On  such  oc- 
casions. Father  Tom  became  fiercely  poleijii- 
cal,  and  was  rewarded  by  the  sobriquet  of 
"Controversial  Tom." 

About  the  time  that  Father  Tom  had  im- 
bibed a  dozen  tumblers,  his  eyes  would  attain 
an  unnatural  brightness,  and  he  used  to 
say  that  he  was  then  getting  "  into  good 
tune  ;"  after  that,  no  matter  how  much  more 
he  swallowiid,  it  seemed  to  have  no  othei  ef- 
fect than  that  of  increasing  his  thirst,  and  ho 
could  then  be  scarcely  civil  to  any  man  in  liis 
company  whom  he  thought  could  not  stand 
the  thirtietli  tumbler. 

To  si)end  a  night,  then,  with  Father  Tom 
was  by  many  regarded  as  a  privilege.  Afttsr 
his  reverence  got  in  good  tune,  his  pecu- 
liarity was  then  to  become  ccmtroversial ;  and 
from  him  there  was  no  escape.  He  would 
badger  away  until  Ik;  found  an  opponent — no 
matter  whether  i)riest,  parson,  or  pope — and 
he  would  then  argue  from  the  fathers,  and 
from  an  overwhelming  array  of  texts  and 
traditions,  just  as  fierci;ly  as  if  the  very  fate 
of  his  church  depended  ui)on  the  issue';  and 
many  of  his  brother  priests,  knowing  his  weak- 
ness, would  not  let  the  opportunity  pass,  for 
one  or  another  was  always  ready  to  make  an 
attack  and  assume  the  ixisition  of  an  oppo- 
nent in  ord<;r  to  draw  him  out  and  h(^ar  his 
defense.  At  such  times,  his  whole  thtMiie 
would  1)0  his  church  and  its  suprmuacy,  with 
an  occasional  dash  at  the  apostasy  of  IJritain  ; 
and  then,  if  lie  even  knew  that  it  was  the 
.pope  in  state  who  disputed  with  him,  he 
would  still  argue  away,  (piito  inditlerent  to 
his  holiness  or  to  the  splendor  of  his  triple 
'  crown. 

No  two  persons  could  bo  mon^  unlike  than 
Father  Tom  in  the  forenoon  and  the  same 
Father  Tom  in  the  evening.  He  was  humor- 
ous and  good  naturod  enough  at  all  times ; 


!  hut  in  the  morning,  when  reason  har!  full  con- 
I  trol,  he  would  be  more  priest-like,  more  seri- 
I  ous,  and  more  thoughtful ;  in  the  evening, 
when  he  was  less  troubled  with  doubts  and 
speculations,  he  was  full  of  wit,  and  at  the 
right  stage,  when  fully  primed,  he  would 
mount  the  controversial  hobby,  and  ride  away 
as  if  for  dear  life. 

There  was  some  secret  infiuence,  however, 
to  work  this  change.  Father  Tom  in  morn- 
ing conversation  often  expressed  strange 
opinions  regarding  many  of  the  rites  and 
doctrines  of  his  church,  and  even  before 
priests  he  would  say  some  very  startling 
things  ;  but  they  said  they  knew  him,  wasn't 
he  "  controversial  Tom  "  V  the  very  divil  for 
argument,  and  what  was  the  use  in  minding 
any  thing  he  .said  ?  He  was,  they  asserted, 
sound  to  the  backbone,  a  stout  d(!fender  of 
the  faith.  They  had  often  heard  his  exposi- 
tions after  the  fifteenth  tumbler.  That  was 
the  time  to  see  what  was  in  him.  In  vino 
Veritas. 

Yet  Fatli(;r  Tom  was  not  understood  ;  for 
years  he  had  been  troubled  with  grave  doubts 
concerning  many  points  of  his  religious  be- 
lief ;  and  while  he  had  to  appear  before  his  co- 
livborers  as  faithful  and  submissive  to  the 
dicta  of  his  <  h  --^h,  and  to  manifest  the  con- 
ventional coucompt  and  hostility  toward  hereti- 
cal teaching,  yet  he  dreaded  to  subject  tire 
mysteries  and  doctrines  of  his  religion  to  tho 
ordeal  of  reason  ;  it  was  an  insatiable  inter- 
rogator 1  He  was  often  very  much  perplexed, 
and  dreaded  uncertainty.  He  lovecl  the  great 
old  ecclesiastical  structures  of  which  Peter 
was  the  head.  The  ceremonies  of  tho  Romish 
faith  were  grand  and  attractive,  and  it  cost 
him  a  severe  struggle  to  entertain  ideas  which 
were  not  strictly  orthodox.  The  very  exist- 
ence of  doulit  made  him  irritable  at  times,  as 
if  some  rapacious  intruder  had  stealthily  en- 
tered his  dwelling  and  would  not  depart.  He 
tried  to  persuade  liimself  into  full  belief;  and 
thus  it  often  was  that  in  combating  tlie  views 
of  an  imaginary  oppoi;  iit,  he  was  in  reality 
trying  to  defeat  him  •H',  and  get  rid  of  his 
own  doubts  by  force  ^  '  a'-ument  with  an- 
other. 

After  his  clerical  friends  i'  ut  away,  Father 
Tom  still  coutinuiMl  imcing  up  and  down; 
even  tin;  noise  and  stre^'t  sounds  of  the  great 
city  did  not  seem  to  distract  him  for  a  mo- 
ment. n.e  had  celebrated  mass  that  morning, 
and  was  in  a  short  time  to  enter  the  confes- 
sional. This  was  a  duty  ho  disliked  very 
much,  but  he  dare  not  murmur.  He  was  still 
sui)erstitioiisly  circunisiicct  in  the  perform- 
ance of  his  various  obligations  as  a  priest,  in 
tho  hope  that  his  faithfulness  in  holy  orders 
might  yet  dis[)el  his,  doubts,  and  iMiablo  him 
more  clearly  to  understand  and  uppn^ciate  the 
doctrines,  mysteries,  and  imposing  cc^nunonies 
of  tho  "  Motht^r  Church."  Ib^  was,  in  his  un- 
certainty, still  anxious  to  cling  to  the  anci  mt 
faith,  and  to  uphold  its  supremacy  <n'en  whiUi 
he  tram|)l<;d  upon  his  reiison  ;  but  he  dreaded 
to  investigate  tlit!  authority  for  confession,  and 
indulgeiKM^s,  and  invocation,  and,  above  all, 
the  authority  for  transuhstantiation  ;  this  was 
too  •-.•Mxt  a  strain  on  his  faith.  Ho  was  ready 
to  adtuiro  tho  shapely  exterior  of  tho  sopul- 


oi 
o 


9 


4 


EXETER    HALL. 


41 


liar?  lull  con- 
e,  more  siiri- 
tho  evening-, 
(loubis  and 
and  at  the 
I,  ho  would 
kd  ride  away 

CO,  however, 
ni  in  morn- 
icd  strange 
3  rites  and 
n'cn  before 
y  startling 
him,  wasn't 
sry  divil  for 
in  minding 
ey  asserted, 
defender  of 
[  his  exposi- 
.  That  was 
m.    Ill  vino 

erstood ;  for 
jrave  doubts 
eligious  be- 
)erore  his  co- 
isive  to  the 
est  the  con- 
ward  hereti- 
subject  tke 
igion  to  the 
tiablo  inter- 
.  perplexed, 
eel  the  great 
vhich  Peter 
the  Romish 
and  it  cost 
ideas  which 

very  exist- 
at  times,  as 

althily  en- 
de]iart.    lie 

belief;  and 
g  the  views 
in  reality 

rid  of  his 
it  with  an- 


f  th 


vay.  Father 
iiiul  down  ; 
le  great 
for  a  mo- 
lt morning, 
tlu!  confus- 
iliked  very 
le  was  still 
e  perform- 
a  priest,  in 
loly  orders 
nablo  him 
rociiite  the 
eremonies 
in  his  un- 
he  anci  mt 
even  whilt> 
he  tlreaded 
esslon,  and 
al)ove  all, 
;  this  was 
was  rcudy 
the  sepul- 


chre, but  recoiled  at  the  idea  of  entering  its  ' 
ploom,  to  grojje  amid  relics  and  rottenness. 
Between  these  things,  poor  Father  Tom  often 
had  un  uneasy  mind,  while  many  of  the  credu- 
lous faithlul  with  wliom  he  was  in  constant 
intercourse  believed  him  to  be  the  happiest 
of  men,  and  felt  proud  of  him  as  a  champion 
of  the  churt.'li. 

He  was  still  moodily  thinking  ;  and  as  he 
stepped  alona  over  the  inclosed  greensward, 
he  begun  to  dwell  upon  what  he  had  said 
that  morning  before  he  administered  the  sac- 
rament to  the  few  devotees  wlio  were  regular 
attendants.  He  tiiought  again  of  the  formal 
Avords  he  had  used — wonderful,  if  true — and 
now,  as  he  reywated  them  to  himself,  ho  stop- 
ped suddenly  and  frowned  at  tlunr  meaning, 
and  at  his  own  partial  incredulity. 

"  Eccc  Af/ii  lis  Del  —  Behold  the  Lamb  of 
God — moust  rous  !  This  can  not  be  ;  no  matter 
what  either  impe,  or  council,  or  bishop  may 
say  to  the  contrary.  The  simple  wafer  which 
I  held  in  my  hand  this  morning  was  no  more 
the  Lamb  of  (iod  than  I  am.  Good  God  I  to 
believe  that  I  can  swallow  the  great  Creator 
as  I  would  a  pill !  What  an  outrage  on  my 
reason !  Yet  how  many  believe  this  ;  how 
many  of  the  learned  and  profound  sulnnit, 
where  I  doubt  I  Am  I  right,  or  am  I  on  the 
great  higlnvay  to  ])erdition  V    Heaven  direct 

'^mo !"  And  Father  Tom,  in  his  mental  agita- 
tion, still  stood  looking  intently  on  the  ground, 
as  if  he  waited  and  longed  to  have  the  earth 
open  aiul  swallow  him  up  fo.over.  He  then 
commenced  to  walk  rapidly,  and  after  a  few 
■minutes,  he  entered  the  church  ;  and  as  he  al- 
most involuntarily  bi'ut  before  the  high  altar, 
lie  muttered  to  himself,  "  H'this  is  truth,  then 
woe  unto  mo,  for  I  am  undone  !" 

Father  Tom  was  very  punctual  that  after- 
noon :   he  siH'uied,  or  tried  to   be,  in   good 

■"■spirits,  ami  when  he  entered  the  domicile  of 
Father  Diuuy  Lynch,  he  swept  in  among 
them  like  a  warm  glow  of  sunshine.  A  more 
jovial  set  of  priest*  never  sat  at  a  table.  Be- 
sides Father  Tom,  and  Father  Mick,  and 
Father  Diiiny,  there  were  two  or  three  other 
old  friends,  not  in  ord<;rs  ;  and,  although  it 
was  fast -day  with  many  of  the  faithful,  the 
clergy  seldom  or  never  took  the  trouble  to 
a])piy'jbr  a  special  license  to  eat  meat;  the 
privilege  they  might  grant  to  another  they 
coidd  surely  ywrtake  of  themselves;  and  there- 
fore the  nia>t  and  boiled  on  Father  Dinny's 
table  appean'd  and  disai)pear(>d  in  good  time, 
after  whicli  digestion  was  assisted  by  a  rous- 
ing glass  of  ^^fhdltern,  prepared  by  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Lyncli  himself,  after  an  old  receipt  by  one 
of  the  ancient  irisli  Fathers. 

"  Well,"  said  Father  Tom,  after  some  other 
matt(!rs  hud  been  discussed,  and  who  now  be- 
gan to  feel  very  coiufortubh!  and  locpiacious, 
"  1  wish  1  was  on  thoould  sod  once  nun-e  ;  I'm 
getting  tired  of  the  cockneys.  You  may  talk 
as  you  like  about  Saxons  and  Telts,  and  alxmt 
your  big  city —your  modern  Sochnn — but  give 
me  the  Ishmd  of  Saints  yet,  where;  our  church 
can  count  nearly  fifty  to  one  with  any  other. 
Sure,  here  we  are  like  wheat  among  tares, 
cheek  by  jowl  with  lia])tists,  ami  Swaddlers, 
aiul  Hantei-s,  that  are  ready  to  tear  each  other 
tt>  pieces  for  thu  lovo  of'Uod.    The  Virgin 


save  ns!  Och!  the  """ord  bo  with  you,  sweet 
Cork  !  bctune  you  una  me,  I'd  like  to  be  back 
there  now.  Ullagonc,  sure  it's  nol,  in  this  wil 
derness  of  brick  and  mortar  that  you'd  have 
me  spend  my  days.  Wait,  Dinny  avick,  if  I 
don't  show  you  a  clean  pair  of  heels  it's  no 
matter."  And  Father  Tom  began,  in  a  kind  oi 
regretful  mood,  to  hum  the  "  Groves  of  Blar- 
ney," an  air  which  always  had  for  him  a  most 
ins[,:ring  effect. 

"  Tom,"  said  one  of  the  priests,  "  give  us 
Father  Front's  song ;  you  can  do  it ;  you'll 
never  forget '  Shandon  Bells,'  although  they're 
hung  in  a  Protestant  steeple.  Here's  the  way 
it  goes — " 

"  Arrah,  sure  that's  'Sheela  na  gxdra '  you're 
trying  to  whistle,  you  ummadhmcn  /  Micky, 
allannah,  I  can't  easily  forget  them  bells ;  I 
never  can  !  I  remember  once,  long  ago,  when 
I  was  singing  a  litany,  the  ould  bells  were 
chiming  away,  and  every  now  and  then  I 
thought  they  sent  back  a  longing  response  to 
our  ancient  service ;  and  when  I'd  sing, '  Sanc- 
ta  Maria,'  down  came  the  rushing  sound  in  re- 
ply, like  a  saintly  voice  from  paradise — '  Ora 
pro  nobis.'  Ah  Micky !  I  often  liked  to  hear  them 
of  a  fine  summer's  evening  ;  their  sweet  vibra- 
tions used  to  return  to  me  like  the  hum  of  my  , 
poor  mother's  soft  song,  when  she  was  putting 
me  to  sleep  long  ago.  God  be  merciful  to 
her!  Avacn.  licquicscat in jMce !"  And  Fath- 
er Tom,  almost  in  tears,  devoutly  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  on  his  forehead. 

"  Well,"  continued  Father  Tom,  wiping  his 
lips  with  his  hand,  and  laying  down  the 
empty  tumbler,  "  there's  a  smack  of  the  rale 
bogwater  about  that,  anyhow.  Isn't  that  from 
Tom  Wise  t  Faith,  his  distillery  is  only  one 
of  the  few  factories  wo  have  left  to  remind 
these  foreigners  of  what  we  once  were.  They 
may  talk  of  their  fabrics,  and  of  their  cattle 
shows,  and  of  their  great  exhibitions;  but 
they  can't  bate  that,  divil  a  bit.  The  dirty 
Thames  is  as  polluted  as  British  royalty  ;  they 
haven't  the  clear  waters  of  the  Lee  to  draw 
from."  Ho  said  this  as  he  was  diligently 
mixing  his  seventh  tumbler,  and  he  gave  a. 
very  meaning  sigh,  as  he  stirred  the  spoon  in 
the  smoking  contents.  "  Micky,  what  are  you 
doing  ?  Don't  be  afeard  of  that ;  there's  not 
a  headache  in  a  whole  puncheon  of  it." 

"  Come,  Father  Tom,  don't  forget  the  song ; 
just  one  verse,  to  begin  with." 

"Arrah,  Mick,  I  can't  forget  the  bells,  but 
'pon  my  sowl  I  forget  lUe  song  ;  more  shame 
on  me  I    Let  mo  see,  it  goes  this  way — 

'  With  (1-jp  nffpction,  and  awcet  recolloction, 

I  ottcn  think  of  those  Shandon  bells, 
Whose  song  8o  wild  would,  Intiie  days  of  childhood, 

Fllnc;  round  my  cradle  their  miigic  spella. 
Oli-thia  I,  I-» 

Och,  divil  take  it,  asking  Father  Front's  par- 
don, I  can't  make  it  out.  I'm  afeard  I'll  soon 
forg(!t  my  pafcr  nostcr,  and  every  thing  else 
that's  good,  if  I  stay  in  this  benightwl  coun- 
try. But  stop,  I'll  make  a  verse  for  you." 
He  hummed  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
began, 

"For  Cork's  own  city,  so  Mr  and  witty, 
I'll  slnu;  this  ditty,  thouch  fur  iiwuy  ; 
And  still  renicnilu'r.  to  life's  cliill  DciHimbcr, 
My  uutlvu  town  thut'd  across  the  say. 


42 


EXETER   HALL. 


My  heart  is  swelling  for  Sundays-Well,  in 
That  beauteous  quarter  where  you  could  see 

The  bells  of  Shandon,  that  sound  po  grand  on 
The  pleasant  waf.jra  of  the  river  Lee." 

"Bravo,  bravo  I  well  done!  illigant ! 
sublime  1"  and  then  sundry  heavy  thumps 
made  the  glasses  dance  ou  the  tabh\  "  Put 
that  in  print,  Father  Tom,  ajjd  I'ailh,  your 
fortune  is  made." 

This  was  not  a  labored  impromptu  with  the 
priest.  His  voice  was  soft  and  musical ;  he 
aunjj  slowly  and  with  great  fcelinff',  and  the 
words  followed  each  other  in  an  easy  order  of 
versification,  adapted  to  the  popular  air. 

"  I'm  no  poet ;  however,  I'm  glad  you're 
pleased.  But,  Dinny  avick,  if  I  was  a  jaynu- 
ine  poet,  I  might  make  some  verses  that  his 
holiness  the  pope  might  clap  iu  the  Index 
Prohibitorius." 

"  Sure,  Father  Tom,  you  wouldn't  mount 
your  Pegasus  and  canter  away  from  the 
church  ?  You  wouldn't  write  any  thing,  no 
matter  how  inspired,  that  you'd  be  afraid  to 
let  your  bishoj)  see  f 

"  See  ?  Ood  help  the  see  that  he  blinks  at ! 
TJiipitm,  he  can't  see  a  hole  through  a  ladder 
fionietimes.  I  know  it,  and  Micky,  ould  Wise- 
man's an  ass ;  ho  is,  by  Gor  !" 

"  O  Tom,  Father  Tom,  aisy,  aisy,  aisy  !" 

"  He's  an  ass  I  say,  and  the  prince  of  asses," 
and  Father  Tom  rep(>ated  a  verso  of  the  song 
pen-^ally  sung  at  Bcauvais,  France,  during 
the  Romish  festival,  in  praise  of  the  ass,  on  the 
14th  of  J  anuary. 

"  Eccc  magnis  anribus  I    Subjucalis  Alius  ; 
Asinus  egregius.  Asinorum  dominus  1"* 

"  See  hero ;  the  whole  of  you  are  afraid  of 
that  ould  thief,  but  I'm  not,  divll  a  bit.  lie's 
a  half-Spaniard.  What  did  they  send  him 
here  for  'i  to  be  one  of  our  cardinal  points  V 
sure,  he  wouldn't  let  me  take  a  quiet  smoke 
the  other  night,  he  didn't  want  the  smell  of 
tobacco  ;  yet  he  carries  a  gold  snuft-box  to 
stuff  hij  own  ould  beak.  I  tould  him  in 
dt)uble  quick  time  that  I'd  lave;  the  palace  and 
go  to  more  humble  quarters,  somewhere  else, 
and  so  I  did,  tlun-o  now. — If  they  had  him  iu 
Ireland,  they'd  choke  him." 

It  was  useless  now  to  make  any  attempt  to 
control  Father  Tom.  By  this  time,  he  had 
swallowed  the  twelfth  tumbler;  and  if  the 
Pope  himseir  were  to  enter  the  room,  he 
would  face  him  with  a  piiie  in  his  mouth  and 
armsakimljo. 

Father  Tom,  after  a  moment's  oblivion,  now 
gave  a  disdainful  side-look  around  the  tabh; ; 
he  appeared  to  rise  wonderfully  in  his  own  es- 
timation ;  every  doubt  had  almost  vanished, 
and,  champion-like,  he  felt  itching  for  a  brush 
with  an  oi)ponent.  Looking  from  under  a 
frown  at  his  friends,  he  began  : 

"  You're  i\  lot  of  interlojx'rs !  What  do  you 
benighttnl  heretics  know  V"  And  he  imagin- 
ed for  the  monu'ut  that  he  was  engaged  in  a 
regular  set-to  with  some  stiff  Protestant,  sonus 
sanctllied  noi/pcv  ol'  the  Establishment. 

I'm  a  ])riest.     I'n:   none  of  your  wolves  in  i 

,r  3  *  See  that  broad,  mjijestlc  ear, 
'  Born  h(!  is  the;  poke  to  Moar  ; 

All  his  fellows  111!  surpasses, 

He's  the  very  lord  of  atsos  I 


sheep's  clothing.  I'm  a  priest  of  the  rale  ould 
church  founded  by  Peter. — D'ye  want  proof* 
■  Upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church,  and  I 
will  give  to  thee  the  keys.'  Yes,  the  keys,  and 
divil  a  in  you'll  ever  get  unless  ice  open  the 
door.  Put  that  in  your  pipe,  and  smoke  it. 
What  do  the  Scriptures  say?  'Many  sliall 
come  in  my  name.' — Yes,  a  lot  of  thieving, 
blind  guides,  with  their  texts,  and  their  tracts, 
rnmmaging  up  and  down  the  country,  beg- 
ging, and  i)raying,  and  feasting,  and  gorman- 
dizing. A'-rah,  the  divil  sweep  them,  but  it's 
a  nice  time  of  day  with  us  whin  we've  got  to 
stand  aside  and  make  way  for  your  snub-nosed 
Busters,  and  Bakers,  and  Buntings !  Wasn't 
that  a  nice  sample  they  gave  at  the  Bi'Dic 
meeting  o.^"  their  Christianity  ?  Be  gor!  the 
public  papers  say  that  they  went  at  it  on  the 
very  platform,  before  the  whole  crowd  of 
psalm-singers  in  ould  Howe's  conventicle,  and 
sure  they  tumbled  one  fellow  clear  over,  and 
knocked  out  Campbell's  eye  ;  pity  they  spoil- 
ed his  fquint !  Och  !  God  be  with  the  place 
where,  if  they  commenced  such  a  row,  we 
could  aisily  get  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  boys  to 
stf  p  in  among  them  with  a  few  blackthorns 
to  leather  free  grace  into  them.  Wouldn't 
there  be  ructions  ?  Musha,  blessed  be  the  ould 
sod  ;  after  all  the  tithes,  and  extortion,  and 
oppression  of  the  gambling  interlopers  of  par- 
sons, they  can't  make  much  headway  ther^. 
They  may  think  that  they, soften  some  of  the 
hungry  craythers,  once  in  awhile,  whin  tliey 
come  Avith  a  bowl  of  soup  in  one  hand  and 
their  dirty  rag  of  a  Bible  in  the  other.  Tlie 
bowl  is  su.-e  enough  emjitied,  and  the  book, 
'printed  by  His  Majesty's  special  command,' 
is  just  as  certain  to  be  left  at  some  huckster's 
stand  on  the  Coal  Quay,  while  Paddy  has  got 
more  than  the  value  of  it  in  his  pocket  in  the 
shape  of  tuppence'  worth  of  toliacco. 

"  Then,  Lord  save  us  !  at  on((  of  their  next 
big  missionary  meetings,  or  may  bo  at  their 
great  Eyf>ter  Hall,  how  they'll  turn  up  their 
eyes,  while  some  dandy  parson,  or  thieving 
ould  ranter  delights  a  moiiing  crowd  with 
lying  accounts  of  the  whoh'sale  conversion  of 
dikided  Papists. — Divil  a  bit  but  'tis  hard  to 
have  patience  with  such  a  gang.  Well,  faith, 
ther(;'s  a  few  texts  in  store  for  tluiin.  '  Ye 
serpents,  ye  generation  of  vipers,  how  can 
ye  escape  the  damnation  of  liell'^'  'And 
through  covetousness  sliall  they  with  feigned 
words  make  merchandise  of  you,  whose  judg- 
nuMit  now  of  a  long  time  lingerelh  not,  and 
their  damnation  slumbereth  not.'  '  Let  them 
alone  :  they  be  blind  leaders  of  the  blind. 
And  if  tlu!  blind  lead  the  blind,  l)oth  shall  fall 
into  the  ditch.' — '  Woe  unto  you,  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  hyjiocrites  !  for  ye  com]iass  sea  and 
land  to  make  one  proselyte  ;  aiul  when  he  is 
made,  ye  make  him  twofold  more  the  child 
of  hell  than  yourselv<'s.' — Faith,  there  would 
be  more  truth  in  that  if  it  had  been  written 
'^7;-fold  ;' but  sure  that's  enough  for  them, 
even  out  of  ihelr  own  book.  ^^  e  an;  tould  to 
'let  them  alone,' and  that  their  '  damnation 
sliiiiibcreth  not.'  So  you  see,  th(>re's  comfort 
in  store  for  them  anyhow.  D'yt^  hear  that, 
my  friend  V"  said  he,  giving  a  S(>lf-snllicient 
wink  at  Father  Mick.  "  '  Amrs/uilx  id  d  noil 
audient.'    Thoy  have  cars  to  hear,  but  they 


■if 


EXETER    HALL. 


43 


lio  rale  ould 
want  proof* 
liurdi,  and  I 
Iw.  keys,  and 
ice  o\)Qn  tlie 
d  smoko  it. 
Many  shall 
of  thieving, 
their  tracts, 
ountry,  beg- 
md  jjorman- 
leni,  but  it's 
ve've  got  to 
r  pnub-nosed 
:h  I  Wasn't 
it  the  Bible 
Be  goi- !  the 
at  it  on  the 
3  crowd  of 
'cnticle,  and 
ar  over,  and 
.'  tliey  spoil- 
th  the  place 

a  row,  we 

the  boys  to 

blackthorns 

Wouldn't 

bo  the  ould 
tortion,  and 
ipersof  par- 
(hvay  thexf, 
?oine  of  the 
,  whhi  they 
e  lu\nd  and 
otlier.  Tlio 
d  the  book, 

command,' 
!  huckster's 
Idy  has  got 
ickct  in  the 

tlicir  next 

JO  at  their 

'n  up  tlieir 

thieving 

o.vd   with 

nvcrsion  of 

is  hard  to 

11,  faith, 

ici!..     '  Ye 

liow  can 

.''     'And 

th  feigned 

lose  judg- 

not,  and 

Ii(!t  them 

Hi  blind. 

shall  fall 

ribes  and 

ss  sea  and 

rhen  lie  is 

the  child 

ere  would 

n  written 

for  them, 

i\  tnuld  to 

nninution 

's  comfort 

hear  that, 

sulliclcnt 

lit  d  non 

but  they 


til 


will  not  hear.  Be  gor !  it's  a  wonder  they 
don't,  for  sure  they're  long  enoiigh." 

Fatiier  Tom  h(!ro  drew  another  sigh,  and 
began  to  compound  another  restorative;  then 
in  a  minute  or  so  he  said.  refi(,'ctively,  "  Yes, 
I'm  a  priest  of  the  Holy  Boimin  Catliolic  and 
Apostolic  Church,  and  I  think  the  divil  a  fear 
of  mo  if  I  stay  where  I  am ;  and  now  I  defy 
any  of  you  to  say  that  its  not  the  rale  true 
ould  ^iother  Church.  What  d'ye  say  to 
that  ?"  said  he,  looking  defiantly  at  Father 
Dinny  Lynch,  whom  he  now  took  for  an  oi)po- 
neut. 

"  Well,"  repli((d  Father  Dinny,  assuming  a 
controversial  attitude,  "  I  admit  what  you 
say,  I  don't  deny  but  that  j'oiirs  is  the  rale 
mother  church,  for  you  know  the  faithful  of 
Rome  always  pay  more  regard  to  the  mother 
than  they  do  to  the  son" 

Tliis  answer  rath(!r  staggered  Father  Tom  ; 
but  after  a  short  pause,  he  quietly  closed  his 
left  ey<!  and  kept  the  other  on  his  man,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  Poor  fool,  I  pity  you."  Then 
quickly  changing  the  point  at  issue,  ho  said, 
"  D'ye  mane  to  deny  the  rale  presence  ?  d'ye 
mane  to  deny  that  blessed  mystery  of  our 
church  that  has  puzzled  the  wliole  of  you  for 
over  a  thousand  years?  You  won't  say  a  word 
to  that ;  that's  the  beli(>f  that  bothers  your  rai- 
son  and  philosophy  ;  that's  our  prime  mys- 
lisry.  You'll  niver  got  transubstanliation 
through  your  thick  skulls,  divil  a  bit,  allan- 
nah  !  What  have  you  got  to  say  against  our 
confessional?  Doesn't  the  Scriptures  say, 
'  Confess  your  sins  one  to  another '  ?  D'ye 
mane  to  turn  up  your  noses  at  purgatory  ? 
Faith,  nclck,  I'm  afeard  you're  in  a  fair  way 
of  going  a  little  further  down.  Pshaw !  What 
do  you  know  about  indulgences,  or  penance, 
or  prayer  to  the  blessed  saints?  Nothing. 
KnhocIiUsh,  you'll  be  glad  to  have  the  Hill  of 
'Howth  tumble  over  and  hide  ye,  some  of 
these  fine  days.  Where  d'ye  jjet  your  author- 
ity, let  me  ask  you?  You  talk  of  your  '  apos- 
tolical succession  '-^a  set  of  fox-hunting,  card- 
])laying,  tithe-grabbing,  vagabond  parsons ! 
Succ(!ssion  indeed!  Bad  liu^k  to  the  success 
you'll  ever  have.  Lord  lielp  us !  If  St.  Peter 
was  to  take  a  trip  back  again,  and  see  sucli  a 
batch  of  greedy  wolves  and  hounds  claiming 
to  b(;  his  successors,  wouldn't  he  roar? 
Wouldn't  he  burse  his  sides?  wouldn't  he 
split  right  open  ?  Faith,  he'd  laugh  at  the  idea 
until  he'd  shiike  himself  into  his  very  grave. 
Where  d"ve  get  your  authority?  'I'ell  mo 
that." 

"Out  of  the  Bible,  to  bo  sure,"  said  Father 
Dinny, 

"  Oh  !  of  coorse,  out  of  the  Bible,  the  Bible 
is  your  Pan<lora's  box.  h!.ire,  you'll  get  au- 
thority in  the  Bible  for  any  thing.  Every 
one  of  your  forty  or  fifty  diiferent  sects  can 
(piote  authority  out  of  that  for  their  capers, 
until  tliiVir  cont(;ntion  gets  as  wild  as  a  hiirroo 
at  Donnyhrook.  Out  of  the  Bible  the  Bajitist 
])roves  immersion,  and  another  proves  sprink- 
ling, Tiie  Methodist  proves  \frce  f/raec,'  and 
the  Presbyterian  'election  and  reprnhn^i'm  ;' 
one  to  i^ray  without  ceasing,  and  another  to 
wait  till  tin*  Spirit  moves.  In  the  Bibb;  you 
can  get  authority  for  love  and  for  hatred;  for 
peace  and  for  war ;  for  hope  and  despair ;  for 


jlessing  and  for  cursing ;  for  revenge  and  for- 
giveness ;  for  faith  and  for  works  ;  for  liberty 
and  slavery,  and  for  almost  every  thing  else  ; 
and  sure  tiie  divil  himself  on  a  pinch  could 
find  an  odd  text  or  two  for  hi-s  own  justifica- 
tion. Dcm't  talk  of  the  Bible  and  its  authori- 
ty ;  you're  distracted  yourselves  about  its  rale 
maning  ;  you're  all  pulling,  and  dragging, 
and  hauling  each  otlier,  scarcely  any  two  of 
ye  thinking  alike.  Expunge,  according  to 
order,  and  what  would  yo  have  left  ?  Divil  a 
bit.  Sure  Luther,  that  bastely  apostate,  began 
at  the  end  of  your  Bible  and  wanted  to  sweep 
away  the  book  of  Ilevelation  altogether  be- 
cause it  foretold  of  his  own  downfall.  Not  a 
man  of  ye  is  certain  as  to  what  your  Bible  is ; 
the  blessed  books  Avhich  we  accejit  as  canoni- 
cal, you  timidly  reject  as  apocryphal.  Your 
own  commentators  say  that  certain  chapters 
are  doubtful,  or  even  spurious  ;  others,  that 
whole  books  have  been  lost  ;  one,  that  certain 
texts  are  interpolations,  and  another,  that 
there  are  various  wrong  translations.  You 
talk  of  your  four  Gospels  !  What  do  ye  do 
with  the  other  fifty  or  sixty  which  for  all  ye 
know  have  just  as  good  a  right  to  be  includ- 
ed? Why,  it  is  admitted  that  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  different  readings  of 
ancient  manuscripts  of  the  New  Testament 
have  been  discovered,  and  yet  none  of  your 
present  writings  are  older  than  the  sixth  cen- 
tury ?  Now  with  these  trifling  lacts  staring 
ye  in  the  face,  can  ye  trust  your  Bible — ^j'our 
paper  idol  ?  How  do  ye  know  yov  re  right  ?" 

"  Well,  and  how  do  you  know  ?"  said  Fath- 
er Dinny. 

"  How  do  IDG  know,  d'ye  say  ?  Faith,  we 
know  that  according  to  our  feeble  reason  it  is 
impossible  to  regulate  these  matters,  or  to 
reconcile  our  Bible  contradictions,  or  to  tell 
v.hat  is  what  ;  but  we  take  the  interpretation 
of  our  '•harch  without  a  murmur;  we  submit 
to  its  authority.  We  know  we're  right  be- 
cause the  church  is  founded  on  a  rock,  and  cau 
not  err  ;  and  then  we  have  our  blessed  tradi- 
tions to  make  us  more  secure.  We  had  them 
before  there  was  a  chapter  of  your  New  Tes- 
tament put  in  writing.  There's  no  danger  of 
us;  and  if  you  don't  retrace  your  steps,  and 
stop  your  wand(^ring,  and  hurry  back  to  tho 
ould  faith,  begorra,  in  coorse  of  time  you'll 
find  yourself  in  a  warm  corner  where  you  can 
roast  a  herring  across  the  palm  of  your  hand, 
or  light  your  pipe  with  the  top  of  your  finger. 
Hurry  back,  allannah,  hurry  back  1" 

Father  Tom  continued  in  this  strain  for 
some  time  longer  ;  he  had  got  rid  of  every 
doubt,  and  was  once  more  fully  persuaded 
that  the  Roman  Church  was  the  pillar  and 
ground  of  truth.  Between  the  spirits  in  hia 
glass  and  its  effects  upon  his  imagination,  ho 
became  at  last  violent  in  his  declamation,  and 
as  unruly  in  his  theology  as  St.  Dominic  him- 
self. It  was  late  that  night  before  his  proof 
texts  were  duly  arrayed  and  hisdenunciationa 
expended,  and  he  would  not  consent  to  retire 
until  all  had  made  due  submission. 

No  person  who  attended  morning  mass  tho 
next  day  at  Moorfield's  Chapel  would  for  a 
moment  imagine  that  the  tlemure  priest  who 
ofiiciatetl,  and  who  bent  and  bowtnl  with  such 
graceful  solemnity  before  the  lighted  altar. 


1 


'm 


EXETER    HALL. 


11 


was  the  advocate  for  thirty  tumblers,  or  the 
doubting  coulrovorsialist — Father  Tom  Mc- 
Gliun. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Hampstead  Cottage  never  looked  more 
home-like  and  cheerful  than  it  did  on  the 
bright  April  afternoon  that  Mr.  Capel  and 
^Irs.  Baker  drove  up  to  the  garden-gate  of 
that  j)leasant  dwelling.  Although  he  had 
consented  to  make  this  hoi'sc  his  temporary 
abode,  yet  he  never  had  the  curiosity  to  in- 
quire whether  it  was  a  modern  red  brick 
building,  bolt  up  to  the  street  side,  or  a  mas- 
sive stone  structure  in  the  same  position,  with 
thick  walls,  very  little  windows,  and  great 
dreary  looking  gables,  having  acute  angles  of 
the  olden  time  ;  he  never  gave  it  a  thought. 
He  was  but  a  wayfaring  man,  content  to 
sojourn  a  few  months  in  one  place,  and  may 
be  a  year  or  more  in  another ;  and  when  he 
had  formed  f^n  agreeable  intimacy  with  a  few 
persons,  \ui  was  sent  away  to  some  distant 
circuit,  never  perhaps  to  meet  theni  again.  It 
was  from  this  that  a  feeling  of  indilference 
had  been  engendered  as  to  where  he  should 
reside ;  but  when  he  saw  the  neat  cottage 
surrounded  by  fine  trees,  and  the  trim  garden, 
and  the  young  buds,  and  the  (;Jear  sun-lit  sky, 
and  heard  the  songs  of  a  thousand  l)irds,  many 
of  which  seemed  to  flit  with  delight  through 
the  fragrant  air,  the  sceLe  was  most  agreeable, 
and  one  that  his  fancy  would  have  readily 
created  as  o  picture  of  homt*. 

But  if  he  never  thouglit  of  the  house,  he  had 
often  thought  of  its  proprietor.  Mrs.  Mannors 
had  already  evinced  her  kind  disposition 
towards  him,  was  in  fact  like  a  mother.  She 
was  also  "  "'ister  in  the  cluirch,  and  he  well 
knew  that  ho  had  her  sympalhic^s  and  her 
prayers  ;  her  husband,  however,  the  master  of 
ileath  Cottage,  was  an  entire  stranger  to  him 
personally,  and  not  only  that,  but  according 
to  report,  an  utter  stranger  to  the  truth  of 
God,  and  even,  it  was  said,  an  avowed  enemy 
to  the  Christian  faith.  IIow  could  he  meet 
this  man,  and  be  content  to  remain  as  Ids 
guest— as  one  of  his  family  ?  Would  he  not, 
by  accepting  this  offer  of  hospitality,  be  often, 
perhaps,  obliged  to  submit  and  listen  to  un- 
pleasant insinuations  against  religion,  or  to 
the  open  blasidiemous  attacks  of  an  unbeliever? 
One  wlio  is  firmly  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  the 
Bible  is  actually  shocked  at  the  bare  idea  of 
infidelity,  and  therefore  presumes  that  a  per- 
son who  cnn  persistently  reject  inspiration 
must  be  willfully  ])er verse,  and  should  be  avoid 
ed  as  far  as  possible.  He  is  ])resunied  to  be  a 
gloomy,  dissatisfied  cynic,  devoid  of  tender 
sympathies,  and  of  the  kindlier  feelings  of 
our  nature;  a  man  whose  word  is  but  a 
snare,  and  wlioso  honor  but  a  lie,  whose 
passions  are  under  no  i)roper  control,  leaving 
him  sordid,  1  uirtless,  and  brutal.  Tliere  was 
no  denying  tiie  fact  that  the  idea  which  lie  had 
formed  concerning  Mr.  Mannors  was  not  very 
flattering ;  he  had  been  represented  to  him  by 
Mr.  Baker  ns  a  very  dangerous  ])(!rson,  whose 
principles  and  character  could  not  meet  the  ap- 
proval of  either  Uod  or  man. 


Tlins  it  is  that  too  often  nn  un^vtarrantable 
prepossession  may  raise  a  barrier  between  us 
and  an  estimable  person,  whom,  if  better 
known,  might  exliibit  genial  and  intellectual 
qualities  of  a  high  order,  and  with  whom 
intercourse  and  intimacy  might  be  a  source 
of  the  greatest  enjoyment,  by  engendering  a 
friendship  wliich  would  ma've  life  more  hapjiy, 
and  even,  after  a  final  separation,  leave  a  ray 
of  light  forever  on  the  memory. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  Mr.  Capel  was  anxicms 
to  see  the  individual  under  whose  roof  he  was 
for  a  time  to  find  a  home,  at  whose  table  he 
was  to  sit,  and  whose  mind  he  was  to  try  and 
im])res3  with  Gospel  truth.  Judging,  how- 
ever, from  the  surroundings  of  his  habitation, 
the  young  preacher  fancied  that  his  ho.-t  must 
be  a  lover  of  rural  beauty.  Every  thing 
seemed  to  indicate  the  possession  <  f  the  most 
excjuisite  taste  and  love  of  order.  If  such  na- 
tural attractions  gave  a  bent  to  his  mind,  it 
could  not  be  in  a  very  wrong  direction  ;  and 
it  might  be,  after  all,  that  the  infamy  which 
some  were  ready  to  attach  to  his  name  was 
but  the  result  of  an  unfair  prejudice  which 
our  present  social  enlightenment  has  not  yet 
repudiated.  Detraction  could  surely  be  no  aid 
to  religion.  He  would  now,  however,  be  soon 
able  to  judge  for  himself,  and  he  would  try  to 
do  so  impartially. 

Such  were  Mr.  Capel's  reflections  while  he 
looked  from  the  vehicle  at  the  gate-side  into 
the  i)leasant  garden.  Neither  lie  nor  Mrs. 
Baker  had  yet  been  observed  from  the  house 
and,  as  if  by  a  tacit  agreement,  tliey  sat  still 
to  listen  to  the  warbling  of  birds  from  a  num- 
ber of  cages  by  the  hall  door ;  tluy  could  sec 
the  young  vines  creeping  through  th*;  trellis- 
work,  and  sunshine  and  shadow  commingling 
around  the  ivied  windows  and  meeting  on  the 
flower-stands;  and  then  they  hei.rd  the  mel- 
low sound  of  harmony  from  a  piano  and  voices' 
in  the  parlor.  Mr.  Mannors  and  his  daughter 
wer(!  ])racticing  a  favorite  duet,  and  as  the  full 
swell  or  diminuendo  reached  the  ear,  Mr.  Ca- 
pel, who  had  a  cultivated  taste  for  music,  al- 
m(»st  fancied  himself  at  one  of  the  ])early  gates 
of  heaven  instead  of  being  near  the  entrance 
to  the  residence!  of  a  doonu'd  unbeliever.  He 
still  listened  ;  and  while  this  pleasing  far  ;y 
lingered,  the  door  opened,  and  out  rushed 
Mary  from  the  house,  as  bright  an  angel  of 
the  earth  as  ever  met  his  lyes.  Mrs.  Mannors 
followed,  and  then  came  Mr.  Mannors  him- 
self; while  Hannah,  from  one  of  tin*  dormer 
windows,  shouted  out  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Baker 
Mrs.  Mannors  was  the  first  to  reach  the  gate, 
and  sh(!  impulsively  reached  ui)b()th  hands  to 
Mr.  ('ajiel  in  a  hearty  shake ;  she  almost 
neglected  Mrs.  Baker,  in  her  eagerness  to 
bestow  her  welcome  u]ion  the  young  preacher. 
Mr.  Mannors  waited  for  no  introduction,  liut 
greeted  him  in  the  kindest  manner,  and  Mr. 
Capel  was  actually  surprised  at  the  warmth  of 
his  reception.  Mary  Mannors,  now  blushing, 
hesitated  to  ajiiiroach,  and  with  l)ecoming  dif- 
fidence stood  at  a  short  distance  holding  her 
brother's  hand,  and  waiting  to  be  made 
acquainted  with  their  visitor. 

The  young  j)reaclier's  eyes  wandered  from 
Mary  Mannors  to  her  brother,  then  to  Mrs. 
Mannors,  nud  then  to  the  courteous  gentle- 


II 

b 
h 

n 
tl 
w 

C( 

u 
Is 


EXETER    HALL. 


45 


vtarrantable 
between  UB 
I,  if  better 
intellcciunl 
with  whom 
je  a  souico 
xonderinjjf  a 
iKire  liaitjiy, 
leave  a  ray 

was  anxious 
roof  he  was 
)se  table  he 
^  to  try  and 
Ifrinjj,  how- 
1  haljitation, 
is  ho.-t  must 
very  thinj; 
if  the  most 

If  such  iia- 
liis  mind,  it 
'ction ;  and 
"amy  which 

name  was 
idice  which 
lias  not  yet 
y  be  no  aid 
ver,  be  soon 
rould  try  to 

ns  while  he 

ite-side  into 

e  nor  Mrs. 

1  the  house 

ley  sat  Btill 

i'om  a  nuiTi- 

y  could  sec 

tlu!  trellis- 

'mminglinja: 

tiu^  on  the 

d  the  mel- 

)  and  voices 

is  daughter 

as  tlie  full 

ar,  Mr.  Ca- 

nuisic,  al- 

early  jjatcs 

le  entrance 

ii  vir.    He 

sing  far  ;y 

ut    rushed 

1  angel  of 

.  Manners 

nors  liim- 

le  dormer 

Irs.  Baker 

I  ihe  gate, 

I  hands  to 
le  almost 
(>rness   to 

jireacher. 
ction,  ])ut 
,  and  Mr. 
iirmth  of 
bliiKliing, 
iiiihig  dif- 
hling  her 
be   made 

"ved  from 

II  to  Mrs. 
Is  gentle- 


man who  had  so  kindly  Avelcomed  him,  and 
Avho  was  now,  without  waiting  for  assistam-e, 
busily  eugagi'd  removing  the  small  trunk  he 
had  brought  from  Mr.  Baker's.  Mr.  f.'apel 
was  most  agreeably  8ur[)rised,  and  for  a  few 
mniueuts  watched  Mr.  Mann- )rs  intently.  Is 
this,  thought  he.  the  person  against  wliom  I 
was  warn(!d  ?  Is  this  the  man  whose  dark 
count(!naucc  and  vulpine  aspijrt  betrayed  the 
unholy  emotions  which  goveriuiil  his  mind? 
Is  this  he  whom  Mr.  Baker  luis  so  long 
despised,  and  against  whom  he  has  hurhid  so 
many  denunciatory  texts?  Surely  it  can  n')t 
bo!  lie  found  it  imj)ossible  to  believe  that 
the  gentleman  witli  mild,  cheerful  face,  who 
had  just  assisted  jNIra.  Bak(?r  to  alight,  who 
was  now  holding  her  to  the  house,  and  whose 
smile  seemed  so  attractive  to  that  fair  girl 
and  her  delicate  brother,  was  the  Martin  Man- 
ners of  his  imagination — the  gloomy  skeptic, 
th(!  monster  of  unbt^lief,  the  denounced  intidel, 
who  made  his  pious  wife  so  miserable,  and  who 
wantonly  treated  divine  revelation  with  so 
much  contcmi>t.  Was  this  the  man  wln.m  he 
had  to  try  to  warn,  reprove,  and  reform? 
Well,  considered  Mr.  Cai)el,  if  this  is  to  i.>e 
my  mission  lu^re,  I  have  a  harder  task  beforo 
me  than  I  imagined.  There  is  nothing  vi- 
cious lurking  in  his  heart,  tliere  is  nothing 
dark  or  designing  in  that  generous  counte- 
mancc  wliich  throws  such  a  lialo  of  happiness 
all  around.  If  the  heart  of  man  is  by  nature 
"deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately 
wicked,"  were;  it  not  that  it  would  involve  the 
palpable  contradiction  of  Holy  Writ,  I  should 
Bay  that  Martin  Manners  was  an  exception 
to  the  general  rule,  and  as  guileless  as  a 
child. 

Had  Mr.  Capel  entertained  any  doubt  as  to 
the  friendliness  of  his  reception  at  Heath 
Cottage,  that  doubt  was  now  etfectually  dis- 
pelled by  th(!  genuine  kindness  already  shown 
him,  and  by  the  great  satisfaction  manifested 
by  all  upon  his  arrival.  In  fact,  had  lie  been 
some  poor  prodigal  who  liad  long  wandered 
away  from  his  father's  house,  and  had  now 
returned,  remorseful  and  repentant,  ho  could 
not  have  found  a  truer  welcome.  Mrs.  Man- 
ners was  fairly  in  (Ecstasies,  she  almost  wept 
with  joy  ;  and  never,  since  the  death  of  his 
mother,  had  .Mr.  Capel  met  with  any  person 
who  appeared  to  take  such  an  interest  in  his  j 
welfare. 

His  kind  hostess  was  indeed  joyfully  ex- 
cited ;  accompanied  by  .Mrs.  Baker,  she  led 
him  around  the  place.  He  was  shown  the 
garden,  and  Ihc:  l)irds,  and  tlie  curiosities  in 
the  hail ;  he  wastake-i  to  different  rooms,  and 
then  she  led  liim  to  the  comfortable  a])art- 
ment  placed  at  his  disposal,  whi're,  to  his  sur- 
prise!, he  found  a  number  of  theological  works 
sidt!  by  side,  for  his  edification.  There  stood 
Baxter,  Doddridgt^,  Pascal,  Paley,  Wesley, 
and  many  others,  besides  memoirs  and  coni- 
mentarit^s  sullicient  to  atl'ord  liim  ample  range 
for  study  ;  aivl  lie  was  still  more  surprised  to 
learn  that  these  works  had  been  carefully 
read  by  Mr.  Manners  himself.  Upon  opening 
several  f>f  them,  \w  discovered  numerous  mar- 
pinul  noti's  in  liis  writing,  illustrative  of 
close  re.ading,  and  of  the  great  interest  taken 
in  the  contents  by  tlie    reasoning  skeptic. 


[  After  having  tried  to  interest  him  with  other 
!  matters,  Mrs.  Mannors  did  not  forget  to  re- 
mind him  of  thtf  task  she  wished  him  to  un- 
dertake respecting  her  husband.  She  said 
she  had  no  doubt  whatever  of  liis  success,  for 
her  prayers  in  his  behalf  liad  been  constant ; 
and  even  her  dn^ams  led  her  to  believe  that 
(iod  was  waiting  to  be  gracious,  and  would 
not  1)0  forgetful  of  his  promise. 

Were  it  a,sserted  that  Mr.  Mannors  was  in  a 
hapjiier  mood  than  usual  that  evening,  it 
might  not  be  strictly  correct.  He  was 
peculiarly  blessed  with  a  very  agreeable  dis- 
position ;  scarcely  any  tiling  seemed  to  affect 
his  cquauiiiiity.  Persons  who  had  known 
him  intimately  for  year.^  seldom  discovered 
any  ditierence  in  his  manner.  He  was  always 
happy,  always  indifferent  to  the  bauble  hon- 
ors v^hich  so  much  engrossed  the  pious  as 
well  as  the  profane ;  and  those  who  felt 
gloomy  or  depressed  before  they  had  spoken 
to  him  of  their  troubles  generally  went  away 
more  hopeful.  Whetlier  Mr.  Mannors  had 
discovered  Svnnething  in  the  unassuming 
modest  demeanor  of  Mr.  Capel,  or  whether  it 
was  the  superior  glow  of  intelligence  in  tho 
face  of  the  young  man  that  excited  an  unusu- 
al interest,  it  could  not  bo  denied  but  that  the 
master  of  Heath  Cottage  was  particularly 
happy  that  evening.  He  had  found  a  new 
friend  ;  and  without  waiting  to  ascertain  what 
his  peculiar  views  might  be  on  this  or  that 
subject,  he  felt  intuitively  that  the  young 
preacher  was  a  person  of  superior  mind,  and 
who,  from  the  tenor  of  his  remarks,  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  liberality  not  permitted  by  strict 
theological  training  ;  he,  no  doubt,  anticipated 
much  pleasure  in  his  society,  especially  as  ho 
was  now  for  a  time  to  be  an  inmate  of  Heath 
Cottage,  and,  as  it  were,  a  member  of  the 
family  ;  but  ho  had  not  tho  least  idea  that 
Mr.  Capel's  visit  was  bo  contrived  by  Mrs. 
Mannors  as  to  make  it  a  lapecial  mission  for 
the  benefit  of  himself,  her  erring  husband. 

For  a  young  man,  Mr.  Capel  was  gifted 
with  great  power  of  discrimination ;  not 
judging  Mr.  Mannors,  tlierefore,  by  his  favor- 
able appearance,  but  from  the  acute  observa- 
tions made  by  him  on  many  subjects,  he  was 
astonished  at  his  great  intelligence,  and  at 
the  vast  powers  of  his  mind.  Though  but  a 
very  short  time  in  his  society,  he  was  inclined 
to  think  that  he  had  never  met  his  equal.  No 
matter  what  any  per,sou  might  assert  con- 
cerning the  peculiar  religious  views  of  such  a 
man,  a  mind  like  his  was  too  fearless  and 
comprehensive  to  reject  any  proposition  with- 
out its  due  share  of  consideration.  Ihf  already 
felt  that  with  Mr.  Mannors  there  would  I'o  no 
necessity  of  going  round  and  round  in  order 
to  ask  a  fair  question  and  demand  a  fair 
answer  ;  he  found  in  him  one  who  was  quite 
willing  that  you  should  know  his  opinion  on 
any  proper  8ul)ject,  and  ever  ready  to  give 
tho  reasons  which  led  him  to  a  conclusion  ; 
that  he  was  a  person  as  willing  to  learn  as  to 
teach,  and  one  before  whom  you  might  lay 
your  opinions,  in  full  confidence  that  he  would 
deal  justly,  and  give  a  true  verdict  according 
to  the  evidcnice. 

The  mission,  therefore,  which  Mr.  Capel  had 
timidly  undertaken  was  no  longer  dreaded ; 


49 


EXETER   HALL. 


it  was  now  to  be  a  source  of  pleasure  instead 
of  a  reluctant  effort ;  and  the  rei)ugnance 
which  he  niiglit  have  once  felt  in  compljinjy 
with  the  mutual  desire  of  Mrs.  Mannors  and 
Mrs.  Baker  continued  no  longer. 

Tlie  two  persons  wlio  but  a  few  hours  be- 
fore were  utter  stranj^ers  to  eacli  otluir  Avere 
now  Been  arm  in  arm  walking  around  the 
garden,  and  engaged  in  agreeable  conversa- 
tion. It  was  evident  that  an  accpiaintance 
had  been  already  formed  which  would,  in  all 
])robability,  continue  for  a  long  time.  It  was 
pleasant  to  see  them  thus  togetlier  as  they 
wand(!red  through  the  winding  walks,  or 
standing  in  friendly  debate  in  the  shadow  of 
some  huge  evergreen.  Both  were  lovers  of 
nature,  and  occasionally  paused  to  see  the 
evening  sunlight  rush  doAvn  in  bright  streams 
through  the  moss-covered  branches  of  venera- 
ble trees,  and  to  hear  the  soft  whispering'  of 
young  leaves.  It  was  cheerful  to  see  tliis, 
and  to  hear  the  hearty,  joyous  laugh  of  Mr. 
Mannors  as  ho  relatotl  some  anecdote  which 
almost  convulsed  his  friend  with  laughter, 
bringing  tears  to  his  eyes. 

Mrs.  Mannors  was  very  mucli  interested. 
She  watched  the  progressive  intercourse 
which  was  now  gradually  begetting  that  con- 
fidence most  desirable  between  the  youn;." 
preacher  and  her  husband.  She  hurriedly 
left  Mrs.  Baker,  in  order  to  have  a  talk  with 
Hannah  upon  the  subject.  After  a  lime,  sh'j 
went  up  to  her  room,  and  looked  down  into 
the  garden,  to  observe  tlie  two  persons  in 
whom,  for  the  moment,  she  felt  most  inte- 
rest. She  was  very  much  gratified ;  her 
fondest  dreams  would  be  surely  realized. 
There  they  were,  husband  and  preacher,  the  un- 
believer and  the  expounder  of  truth,  in  cheei'- 
ful  conversation  on  subjects  of  mutual  interest ; 
there  they  stood,  like  two  old  friends  that 
had  met  once  again,  or  more  properly,  like  the 
meeting  of  a  fond  father  and  dutiful  son,  who 
had  been  long  parted.  What  but  good  could 
she  expect  from  such  a  beginning?  How  dif- 
ferent was  tlie  manner  and  bearing  of  the 
young  preacher  compared  with  that  of  his 
superintendent.  Whenever  Mr.  Baker  ven- 
tured to  call  on  her,  and  that  was  as  seldom 
as  possible,  though  treated  with  the  great- 
est courtesy  by  her  husband,  his  words  to  him 
were  few  and  commonplace ;  and  during  a  short 
stay,  he  was  reserved  and  moody  while  in 
his  presence.  No  wonder  that  she  telt  pleased  ; 
and  now,  as  she  stood  at  the  dormer  window, 
with  th(>,  •  light  of  the  pure,  bright  evening 
sky  aroimd  lier,  burnishing  the  gilt  picture- 
frame,  and  flashing  on  the  mirrors  of  her  room, 
and  thus  mingling  with  the  radiant  smile 
upon  her  face,  sIk;  looked  like  a  hajipy  wife, 
and  the  mistress  of  a  happy  household. 

Everyone  in  Ileatli  Cottage  that  afternoon 
was  pleased  at  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Capel.  Ro- 
bert, the  trusty  man  of  all  work,  was  ([uito 
satisfied.  He  fully  expected  to  see  some  dark- 
visaged,  morose  person  drive  up,  and  cast  a 
shadow  about  the  place,  dark  as  a  thunder- 
cloud. "  But,  Lor,  bless  you  !"  said  he,  as  he 
was  rubbing  down  Mr.  Capel's  horse,  which 
was,  for  the  time,  to  be  an  additional  charge, 
"  Lor  bless  you.  Master  William,  no  one  would 
take  him  to  be  one  of  these  Methodces.   Least- 


ways, I  wouldn't.  Why,  he  bean't  no  moro 
like  one  than  I  am  ;  that  is  to  say,  if  he  liadn't 
that  ere  white  choker  on  him.  I  hoj)e  as 
mistress  wont  be  disapiKiiuted.  Ho  don't 
look  like  a  moi)ingchap.  that's  always  a  pray- 
ing and  looking  miserable.  You'd  think  that 
them  ere  coves  what  brings  us  the  tracts  on 
Sunday  morning,  were  under  sentence  of 
death,  and  had  nothing  to  do  but  go  straight 
to  old  Bailey,  and  get  tipped  oflT.  He's  not  like 
them  ;  he'd  do  better  for  one  of  these  big  par- 
son chaps,  only  he's  a  great  bit  too  civil." 

"  I  like  him  verj'  much,  indeed  I  do,"  said 
William  ;  "  and  so  does  ma  and  pa  ;  and  Mary 
says  he  has  got  suiCi  a  nice  face  and  curly 
hair.  Oh !  yes,  we  all  like  him — Hannah  and 
all,  and  Mary,  too." 

"  Does  she?  Well,  that's  a  go!"  said  Ro- 
bert, giving  a  curious  wink  at  the  wall,  and 
stroking  his  whiskers  during  a  little  pause. 
"  Oh  !  yes,  may  be  Miss  Mary  will  like  him  a 
bit,  as  well  as  yourself;  quite  natrl  like." 

"  She  does,"  replied  William,  in  all  simplici- 
ty ;  "  she  says  that  she's  very  glad  he  came, 
and  we  expect  to  have  some  pleasant  walks 
together.  You  know,  Robert,  the  summer 
time  is  coming,  and  we  shall  have  plenty  of 
nice  evenings  and  mornings,  and,  you  know, 
if  I  am  poorly,  she  will  have  some  one  to  go 
out  Avith  her  ;  that  is,  if  pa  is  away." 

"  Yes,  so  I'm  thinking,"  said  Robert ;  "  but 
may  be  mistress  may  keep  him  a  praying  all 
the  day,  leastways,  when  he's  here.  You  know 
those  Methodees  have  to  be  a  praying  or 
preaching  more  than  half  the  time,  and  the 
other  half  they're  begging.  But  I  think  he 
won't  do  much  that  way.  Your  pa  will  keep 
him  busy.  Yes.  I  think  he'll  have  some  sport 
with  him  ;"  and  Robert,  who  was  not  strictly 
orthodox,  kept  brushing  and  rubbing  away  at 
the  preacher's  horse,  which  found  himself  in 
good  quarters. 

Hannah  and  Jfrs.  Baker  had  been  in  con- 
versation together  for  some  time  before  Mrs. 
Mannors  again  joined  them,  and  when  the 
latter  made  her  appearance,  she  looked  de- 
lighted, and  began  to  tell  how  her  husband 
and  the  young  preacher  had  become  such 
friends,  and  how  she  thought  that,  instead  of 
having  to  travel  away  alone  any  more  to  hear 
the  "  Word,"  they  might  before  long  witness 
a  great  change.  It  would  be  something  won- 
derful to  see  Mr.  Mannors  a  regular  atten- 
dant, and  may  be  a  member  of  a  class,  or  even 
a  class-leader.  Would  it  not  be  a  great 
thing  to  see  him  start  away  early  every  Sun- 
day morning  to  distribute  tracts  among  the 
ungodly,  instead  of  remaining  at  home  as  ho 
now  did,  reading  newspajiers,  and  magazines, 
and  dreadful  books  against  religion,  or  talk- 
ing about  politics,  or  reform,  to  people  of  his 
own  sort,  who  called  to  see  him  ?  No,  it  w(uild 
not  be  too  much  to  expect  to  see  him  occupy 
a  place  on  the  missionary  jilatform,  either  in 
their  own  church,  or,  on  greater  occasions,  at 
Exeter  Hall.  "  I  feel  certain,"  said  Mrs. 
Mannors,  "  from  what  I  witnessed  the  other 
morning,  that  Mr.  (-aped  will  be  able  to  in- 
fluence all  within  this  house  ;  and  may  Cilod 
grant  it." 

"  Well,  ma'am,"  said  Hannah, "  I  never  saw 
a  person  I  could  be  more  pleased  with  tlian 


EXETER    HALL, 


4T 


11 't  no  moro 
if  ho  liadn't 
I  h()j)o  as 
Ho  don't 
ays  a  pray- 
1  think  that 
10  tracts  on 
icntcnco  of 
fro  straight 
Ic's  not  like 
('SO  l)ig  par- 

0  civil." 

I  do,"  paid 
;  and  Mary 
u  and  curly 
launah  and 

)!"said  Ro- 
le wall,  and 
ittlo  ]iau8c. 

1  like  him  a 
rl  like." 
all  simplici- 
d  ho  came, 
[isant  walks 
lio  summer 
•0  plenty  of 
,  you  know, 
le  one  to  go 
xy." 

)bert ;  "  but 
praying  all 
.  You  know 
praying  or 
me,  and  the 

I  think  he 
m  will  keep 
)  some  sport 

not  strictly 
injr  away  at 

himself  in 

leon  in  con- 
Iht'foro  Mrs. 
when  the 
looked  de- 
\or  husband 
icomo  such 
,  instead  of 
.ore  to  hear 
ng  witness 
thing  won- 
uhir  atten- 
|as9,  or  even 
G  a   great 
every  Sun- 
mong  the 
lomo  as  ho 
lagazines, 
|on,  or  talk- 
iplo  of  his 
o,  it  would 
im  occupy 
either  in 
;casi()ns,  at 
said   Mrs. 
tho  other 
ble  to  in- 
may  CJod 

I  never  saw 
with  than 


our  young  preacher  ;  it  is,  you  know,  only  a 
short  time  since  1  lirst  laid  eyes  on  hiiu  ;  lio 
is  the  one  we  need,  lie  is  the  evangelist  that 
is  to  l(!a(l  poor  Cliristian  to  tlie  city  gates.  I 
believe  he  will  yet  work  a  miracle  in  this 
house.  1  feel  like  poor  Hojieful  in  tlie' Pil- 
grim's Progress,'  when  (Hiristian  was  ready  to 
sink  in  deei)  waters.  1  can  now  say,  '  He  of 
goo<I  cluier,  sister,  I  feel  the  bottom,  and  it  is 
good.'  hvX  ?ilr.  C'apel  have  his  own  way 
awhile,  and  all  will  Le  right." 

"(Joodness  knows,  I'm  sure  I  hope  you  have 
got  to  the  bottom  of  your  trouble,  any  way," 
responded  Mrs.  Baker.  "  What  a  blessed 
thing  it  is  to  be  able'  to  trust  in  the  Lord  ; 
when  all  fails,  one  can  rely  on  him.  Have 
faith,  and  every  thing  else  will  follow.  Oh  ! 
what  answers  I  have  had  to  tho  prayer  of 
faith.  I  rem(;mber  once,  when  I  lived  with  my 
brother,  that  it  rained  for  nearly  three  weeks 
in  harvest  time,  and  his  sheafs  of  wheat  were 
almost  rotting  in  the  field.  I  went  to  my 
room  and  pnitciuled  to  be  sick,  and  fasted  a 
•whole  afternoon,  and  oh  !  how  I  prayed  to  the 
Lord  for  dry  weather.  Well,  my  dear,  I  slept 
that  night  in  full  faith,  and  in  tho  morning 
when  I  awoke,  bless  the  Ijord  !  there  was  the 
sun  shining  right  in  on  the  bed-clothes.  There 
was  the  answer  to  my  prayer.  When  I  got 
up,  I  was  all  praise  ;  I  read  the  one  hundred 
and  third  Psalm,  and,  bless  tho  Lord!  ate  a 
most  he-arty  breakfast.  It  was  afterward  dry 
for  a  full  week." 

"Well  then  again,  dear,  but  you  know  I 
wouldn't  tell  this  to  any  one  else,*!  was  a  kind 
of  -dependent  on  my  brother,  and  I  was  anx- 
ious to  get  settled  in  life.  I  wanted  to  'j;et 
married,  and  day  and  night,  and  night  and 
day,  I  jjrayed  to  the  Lord  without  ceasing. 
Bless  you,  how  I  did  pvay !  I  prayed  for  a 
good  husband.  Well,  i  went  at  onc(i  and 
joined  the  church,  attendi d  class,  distributed 
tracts,  attended  t'-inday-school,  made  good 
collections,  and  went  to  every  tea-meeting  in 
the  circuit ;  and  as  soon  as  1  laid  my  eyes  on 
James,  and  found  that  ho  wanted  a  good  wife, 
I  worked  and  prayed  harder  a  id  harder,  and, 
again,  bless  the  Lord !  he  answered  my 
prayer,  and  we  were  married.  Now  I  give 
you  these  as  undoubted  proof's  of  what  prayer 
and  faith  cah  do;"  and  then,  giving  Hannah 
a  sly  wink  and  a  little  ])uiicli  on  the  ribs,  she 
leant  over  and  siud  to  her  in  a  half  whisper, 
"Go  thou  and  do  likewise.''  "Yes,  my 
dear,"  <;ontinued  Mrs.  Baker,  '■  I  hope  your 
trouble  is  nearly  over.  The  Lord  can  work 
wonders  through  the  lips  of  his  chosen  ser- 
vants ;  but  we  must  not  forget  prayer. 
•Prayer  moves  the  hand  that  moves  "tlu; 
world.'  "  And  this  pious  hund-maid  concluded 
by  re])t3atiiig  an  appropriate  verse  from  one  of 
Wesley's  liynins. 

While  these  friends  were  trying  to  assure 
each  other,  Mr.  Cajx'l  (nitered  tlu!  parlor  to 
bear  a  duet.  Miss  Manners  hud  just  taken 
ber  seat  at  the  piano,  and,  at  that  moment,  one 
of  the  latest  sunbeams  of  that  beautiful  even- 
ing shot  in  slantwise  through  the  shining 
window,  and  resttnl  ou  her  golden  brown  hair 
and  on  its  waving  curls  like  a  nimbus  arennd 
ihe  head  of  an  angel.     Marv  never  looked 


more  radiant.  There  she  sat.  the  folds  of  her 
white  dress  falling  around  her  in  graceful 
lines,  and  developing  a  form  perfect,  at  least 
ill  the  eyes  of  the  young  i)reacher,  who  now 
stood  nervously  by  her  side  prepared  to  turn 
over  the  pages  of  music. 

During  the  performance  of  the  piece,  Mr. 
C'apel  would  have  liked  to  mingle  his  voice 
with  the  sweet  strains  which  now  met 
his  ear  and  charmed  him  away  once  moro 
to  his  old  home  and  to  other  endearing 
scenes,  but,  he  must  rem<nnber,  was  ho 
not  a  preacher?  were  not  all  such  recrea- 
ticms  allurements  which  might  draw  liini 
aside  from  the  path  of  duty,  as  they  had 
drawn  others  ?  No  ;  these  things  must  bo 
avoided,  must  be  even  despised  for  the  Cross. 
Alas !  was  it  not  a  heavy  cross  to  carry,  to  be 
obliged  to  reject  and  condemn  what  ho  could 
not  help  feeling  was  intellectual  and  human- 
izing? Was  it  not  a  heavy  cross  for  one  of 
excellent  taste,  to  be  content  with  the  many 
dry,  dreary,  droning,  and  naked  intonations 
embodied  in  church  music,  and  to  seldom  rise 
above  "  ('ambridge,"  "  Devises,"  tho  "  Old 
Hundredth,"  or  above  solemn  or  mournful  an- 
thems, sometimes  sung,  but  seldom  well  per- 
formed ?  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  he  ever 
willingly  gave  way  to  the  seductive  power  of 
secular  music,  it  might  be  only  the  first  step 
downward  in  a  course  of  spiritual  ruin. 

For  the  time,  there  was  a  rebellion  between 
nature  and  grace.  Could  it  be  sinful  to  in- 
dulge in  harmony  that  was  so  elevating,  so 
pure  ?  Were  not  the  angels  in  heaven  thus 
engaged,  and  was  it  not  one  of  the  enjoymenta 
of  the  hlest  iu  their  home  of  eternal  rest? 
Would  t  be  wrong  for  him  to  mingle  his 
voice  with  the  soft  sweet  mubie  made  liy  that 
innocent  girl  ?  It  could  not  be  ;  and  as  he 
stood,  listless  as  a  statue,  he  never  felt  a  re- 
straint more  galling  than  that  which  now 
prevented  him  from  joining  in  suchadeliglit- 
iul  exercise. 

Song  after  song  was  sung  by  Mr.  Manners 
and  his  daughter,  and  the  poetry  and  musical 
composition  were  most  suitaWt  for  the  time 
and  place.  The  sunlight  had  faded  away,  but 
so  gradually  tliat  the  mellow  moonbosv.u  was 
now  its  mild  substitute.  And  the  oblong  patch 
of  silvery  light  that  was  then  seoii  on  the  car- 
pet beneath  the  window  was  an  agreeable 
evidence  of  the  quiet  transition. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Manners,  during  a  pause 
after  the  piece  was  concluded,  "  I  do  not  know 
how  it  may  be  with  others,  but  music  has  the 
lia])piest  effect  on  me  ;  to  be  a  day  without  it 
would  be  a  deprivation  I  should  feel  very 
much.  Morning  and  evening,  for  years,  I 
have  had  music  as  regularly  as  other  peojilo 
have  had  prayer.  Indeed,  what  they  say 
prayer  is  to  the  devotee,  music  is  to  me  ;  it  is 
my  religion,  it  is  my  prayer ;  for  the  heart 
may  want  words  that  music  alone  can  supply  ; 
and  wl^en  I  worship  nature,  I  worship  her  in 
music.  Then,  under  its  inspiration,  I  have 
often  soared  away  in  fancy.  I  often  wish  that 
I  could  leave  the  world  and  its  discord  forever, 
provided  I  could  find  some  poet's  happier 
sph(!re,  and  if  I  only  had  those  I  love  to  ac- 
company me.     Isn't  that  the  way,  Pop  ?"  and 


,lni 


48 


EXETER    HALL. 


n  ^ 


he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  head  of  his  fair  |  dead,  an-   most  of  whom  you  had  known 
daiifrhtcr.  and  then  looked  into  her  blue  eyes  |  wlu-n  you  were  a  child.    \ou  know  that  such 
■         "  '  dream-stories    can  only   leave  a  nieinncholy 

impression ;   even   older   persons   have   been 
sadlv    controlled    by    similar    imajrinations. 


as  if  to  read  her  thoufjlits. 

"  IndiH'd,  pa.  I  have  no  doubt  as  to  your 
mode  of  worshii),  and  I  thiidt  you  arc  some- 
times inspired.  You  dnjam  in  music  as  well 
as  in  sleej).  I  know  lor  certain  that  you 
travel  away  occasionally  where  I  could  not 
follow.  The  other  eveiiinjr,  after  I  had  fin- 
ished one  of  Mendelssohn's  '  Sonjjs  without 
Words,'  you  must  have  started  oft' somewhere, 
for  when  tlu;  modulations  died  away,  there 
was  a  hush,  and  you  8tiX)d  mute  and  absent 
for  nearly  a  minute ;  waiting,  I  suppose,  to 
return  with  an  echo  from — " 

"  From  the  Summerland,"  said  her  brother 
quietly,  ^^'il]iam  appeared  very  delicate,  and 
had  hitherto  sat  jrazing  in  a  kind  of  musical 
reverj'  at  his  sister's  beautiful  face.  "  How  I 
should  like.  Pop,  if  I  was  dying,  to  be  allowed 
to  go  away  by  the  light  of  such  moonbeams, 
and  that  you  and  pa  would  sing  that  nice 
lullaby  for  nu?  before  I  left  for  the  si)irit-land. 
I  like  to  hear  that  song  when  I  am  falling 
asleep.  If  I  have  to  go,  won't  you  sing  it  f(jr 
me?  Yes,  Pop,  you  must  sing  witli  jm,  and 
I  will  hear  your  voices  in  the  Summerland, 
won't  youV" 

"  What  is  my  darling  saying  ?"  said  Mrs. 
Mannors,  rushing  over  to  him  and  clasping 
him  in  her  arms.  "  What  is  my  darling  say- 
ing about  the  spirits,  or  about  the  Summer- 
land?  I'ou  shall  not,  you  shall  not  go,  dear  ; 
you  must  stay  Avitli  me.  Why,  my  dear  child, 
do  you  speak  that  way?"  said  the  already 
terrified  mother ;  "  who  said  that  you  should 
ever  leave  me  ?  We  will  never  part,  my  dear, 
never,  never,  never !" 

Ho  still  sat  and  looked  up  at  her  with  a 
faint  smile  ;the  moonlight  was  upon  his  face, 
giving  it  a  strange  pallor,  and  then  an  ex- 
pression of  seriousness,  as  if  he  understood 
what  he  had  said,  and  wished  to  give  a 
warning. 

These  remarks  made  by  William  so  unex- 
pectedly, and  at  such  a  time;,  had  a  singular 
eft'ect  upon  every  person  present,  especially 
upon  Mary  who  was  much  overcome  ;  and  it 
required  all  the  persuasion  which  Mr.  Man- 
nors could  use  to  induce  his  wife  to  suppress 
her  feelings.  Her  agitation  was  great ;  she 
had  but  just  entered  the  room,  and  had  heard 
every  word  of  the  boy's  strange  request.  Her 
emotions  were  such  only  as  a  mother  could 
feel. 

"  l''ou  know,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Mannors, 
"  that  William  is  often  very  much  depressed. 
This  infirmity  will  wear  away  as  he  grows 
older ;  he  requires  more  exercise  in  the  open 
air.  A  boy's  mind  is  easily  affected.  Hannah 
has  been  telling  him  about  the  spiritualists, 
and  about  circles  and  manifestations ;  and 
about  Bunyau's  heroes.  Christian,  Evangelist, 
and  Faithful ;  and  about  the  Sunmierland 
or  Happy-land.  And  you  remember  you 
told  him  only  yesterday  about  the  beautiful 
island  you  had  seen  in  your  dream,  and  how 
you  saw  him  there,  walking  in  a  garden  where 
there  were  such  beautiful  flowers,  and  then 
resting  under  the  shade  of  such  fine  trees  by 
the  side  of  clear,  sparkling  streams,  among 
happy  children  who  had  been  many  years 


Indeed,  I  am  rather  surprised,"  said  he,  some- 
what gayly,  "that  we  are  not  all  in  the  same 
dreamy  mood.  Here  we  have  been  for  the 
last  lumr  with  music  and  moonlight,  and  you 
ought  to  know  sonu'thing  of  their  influence 
by  this  time."  He  addressed  the  last  remark 
t<'i  Mr.  C'ajjel,  and  then  sung  in  an  undertone 
the  first  lines  of  the  old  soug, 

"  Meet  mp  hy  moonlieht  alone. 
And  it's  then  I  will  tell  jou  a  tale.' 

This  happy  tun\  had   its  desired  effect,  and 
nc  arly  brought  back  the  cheerlnlness  which 
had  been  interrupted.    In  a  few  nunutes,  every 
sliadow  had  disai)peared  ;  and  when  tlu-  lamps 
were  lighted  and  the  heavy  curtains  let  fall 
over  the  windows,  the  moonlight  disappeartni 
from  the  room  also.     But,  ah !  there  ndght  be 
shadows  lurking  that    the    brightest    light 
coufd  not  dispel  ;  there  might  be  gloom  that 
the   noonday  sun  could   never  chase   away. 
What  a  pity  !    Already  a  shadow  was  stretch- 
ing out  that  was  destined  to  rest  upon  Mary's 
fair  brow,  and  already  the  first  faint  trace  of 
care  had  left  a  little  furrow  nestling  close  to 
the   golden   ringlets  Avhich  himg  from  her 
classic  head  in  such  rich  profusion.     It  Avas 
affecting  to  witness  the  efforts  made  by  Mary 
to  enliven  her  brother.     Like  a  true,  loving 
sister  as  she  was,  she  resorted  to  various  liitle 
methods  to  cheer  away  his  temporary  depres- 
sion.    She  sat  close  by  his  side  and  ran  her 
fingers  through  his  hair,  and  put  her  lips  to 
his    ear    repeatedly,   whisjiering    scmiething 
that  made  him  smik; ;  and  then  she  led  him 
from  the  room  to  talk  to  Hannah  and  liobert 
in  the  kitchen.     During  the  remainder  of  the 
evening,  she  scarcely  left  hijn  :  she  would  not 
allow  him  to  brood  alone  for  a  moment ;  and  it 
was  not  longbefore  her  winning  v.nys  and  lov- 
ing smiles  restored  him  to  boyish  forgetful- 
nes.s. 

In  a  short  time  afterward,  when  all  were 
seated  in  the  pleasant  room  at  tin'  supper-ta- 
ble, and  when  the  bright  lamp-lights  where 
ri'flected  in  a  circle  of  smiling  faces,  Mr.  Man- 
nors, as  the  genial  friend  and  hospitable  host, 
appeared  to  great  advantage.  He  had  the  fa- 
culty of  making  ])eople  feel  hai)]>y,  and  now 
he  related  several  anefcdotes  which  were  both 
humorous  and  instructive. 

Mr.  Capel's  first  evening  in  his  new  home 
was  one  which  he  said  he  could  not  forget ; 
his  first  meal  was  most  api  etizing.  Even 
Mrs.  Baker,  who  was  generally  rather  cfdd 
and  formal  toward  Mr.  Mannors,  now,  for 
once,  relaxed  her  frigid  demeanor.  There 
was  no  remark  made  that  could  oflTend  her 
religious  sensibilities;  there  was  no  unplea- 
sant innuendo.  Mrs.  Mannors  might  tell  of 
her  dreams  or  visions,  or  allude  to  the  dis- 
turbance at  the  Bible  meeting,  or  speak  of 
ministers,  or  of  ministers'  wives,  of  mis- 
sions or  Mohammedans,  just  as  she  pleased, 
without  eliciting  a  word  from  Mr.  Mannors 
that  might  be  taken  as  a  slight  uj)on  organ- 
ized piety.     The  preacher's  wife  therefore  en 


H 

til 
111 
til 
ail 

o\| 

q( 

nil 
er 
tl 


EXETER    HALL. 


49 


liad  known 
ow  that  snch 
I  iiu'lnncholy 
s  liave  been 
iiia^nnations. 
aid  lie,  some-- 
1  in  tli«  same 
been  for  the 
<rht,  and  you 
itir  infiuenoe 
L^  last  remark 
an  undertone 


I  tale.' 

■d  cflToct,  and 
iiln»'Hs  which 
unutoH,  every 
icn  the  lamps 
rtains  hit  fall 
t  disapiieartKl 
leie  uiijirht  be 
fjhtpst  lijrht 
e  glooin  that 
cliafie  away. 
r  was  ptretch- 
upon  Mary's 
faint  trace  of 
liujf  close  to 
nff  from  her 
sion.  It  was 
lade  by  Mary 
I  true,  loving 
various  little 
orary  depres- 
and  ran  her 
ut  her  lips  to 
something 

she  led  him 

and  liobert 
linder  of  the 

10  would  not 
meut ;  and  it 

lys  and  lov- 
iwli  forgetful- 

\vn  all  were 
HuppcT-ta- 
i^hts  where 
;i's,  Mr.  Man- 
(itable  host, 
had  the  fa- 
iy,  and  now 
;h  were  both 

s  new  home 
not  forpet ; 
dnjr.  Even 
rather  cold 
•8,  now,  for 
nor.  There 
offend  hor 
no  unplea- 
ght  tell  of 
to  the  dis- 
r  speak  of 
es,  of  mis- 
lie  pi  caged, 
r.  Maniiors 
ftjKJn  or<;an- 
ttierefore  eu 


joyed  herself  more  than  she  liad  for  a  lonj? 
timi!.  ISo  much  wan  this  the  case,  and  w» 
mucli  more  hiul  slic  iiicliiK-d  toward  her  host, 
that  she  .srcrotiy  wished  iier  husband  had  but 
an  opportunity  to  see  him  as  he  then  was, 
even  to  witness  but  a  few  of  this  excelliMit 
qualities  which,  in  si'lte  of  all  prejudici^  she 
must  ackiiowlfdije  were  possessixl  in  such  an 
eminent  de^rree  by  this  reputed  despiser  of 
the  (jospel. 

The  cheerful  hours  ])nss(.>d  away,  and  Mrs. 
Baker  had  to  return  home.  tShe  left  tlu  cot- 
taj?e  hijjhly  pleased  witli  her  visit.  The 
piano  had  iriven  its  last  note  for  the  night, 
mnd  Mrs.  Manners  aii<l  Mary  and  William 
had  retired.  Mr.  Manuors  and  his  guest  sat 
by  the  smouldi'riiig  fire,  talking  freely  about 
many  things,  as  if  the  various  toi)ics  could 
not  be  exhausted,  ilr.  ('ai»el  referred  to  the 
Bible  meeting,  with  the  view  of  hearing  his 
opinion,  and  tiien  to  cautiously  try  and  draw 
him  out  on  thi;  subject  of  reliyion.  Mr.  Man- 
ners hail  read  till-  account  of  the  disgraceful 
Bcenes  which  had  been  enacted  in  Mr.  Howe's 
(diurch,  and  he  alluded  to  the  singular  con- 
duct of  the  majority  of  ministers  and  hearers 
\frho  had  openly  encouraged  what  might  be 
called  a  religious  riot.  The  shameful  pro- 
ceedings had  been  talked  of  far  and  near,  and 
he  knew  of  many  pious  persons  who  exulted 
in  tj>.e  defeat  of  a  certain  religious  body  on 
that  occasion. 

"I  must  acknowledge,"  said  Mr.  C'apel, 
"that  the  v/hole  proceedings  were  most  dis- 
creditable, most  shameful,  most  injurious  to 
our  common  Christianity." 

"  Or  rather  a  conmion  phase  of  Christianity," 
returned  Mr.  Manners.  "  I  sec  you  wish  to 
know  my  o{)inion  on  the  subjc^ct,  and  I  will 
jjive  it  plainly.  I  know  you  will  listen  with- 
qiut  offens(>.  Eeligious  people  seem  to  exist 
l^contention  ;  it  seems  to  be  their  normal  con- 
dition ;  they  claim  to  monopolize  all  the  vir- 
tue, honor,  and  morality  which  elevate  hu- 
manity, and  tell  US  that  Avithout  the  Bible 
aaan  would  be  worse  than  a  brute.  What, 
tiien,  has  the  Bible  done  for  these  men  whose 
professed  calling  is  said  to  be  to  promote  in 
an  especial  manner  peace  and  good-will? 
What  has  the  Bible  done  to  appease  the  cla- 
morous sects  aroiuul  us  who  can  violate, 
m»8t  delibtaately,  every  principle  of  honor  or 
justice  to  obtain  an  ascendency?  How  is  our 
nation  plundcfed  and  our  peojile  impoverished 
to  sustain  a  class  of  meu  who  from  pulpit 
and  platform  shout  out,  '  The  Bible,  the  whole 
3ible,  and  nothing  but  the  Bible,'  and  yet — 
astonishing  fact — the  very  rapacity  of  these 
persons,  the  same  now  as  in  all  time, has  been 
more  depleting  to  our  country  than  the  sup- 
port of  another  abuse — the  payment  of  a 
largo  standing  army.     Look  at  the  pomp,  and 

fplendor,  and  state  of  our  national  priest- 
lood!  Is  this  right?  Jiook  at  the  violent 
upheaving  antl  struggle  for  precedence  among 
the  dissenting  churches  !  What  is  the  great 
actuating  motive  ?  is  it  the  ultimate  benefit  of 
the  peo])le?  Alas !  you,  as  well  as  I,  must  an- 
iwer,  No.  There  is  a  ceaseless  craving  for  more, 
more ;  there  is  no  appeasing  the  insatiable 
appetite  of  our  religious  teachers.  There  is 
an  everlasting  mania  for  the  erection  of  pala- 


tial churches,  for  ministerial  endowments,  for 
the  X)rinting  and  circulation  of  thousands  of 
Bibles,  and  for  sending  men  called  '  mission- 
'  aries '  away  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  while 
I  we  at  home  are  infested  with  an  ignorant, 
I  vicious  multitude,  even  in  the  very  midst  of  a 
i  crowd  of  priests.     There  is  always  something 
I  to  demand  the  child's  toy,  the  widow's  mite, 
I  or  the   poor   man's  jience,  at  the  time  that 
thousands,  yes,  millio;  s  of  human  beings  are 
kept  languishing  in  poverty,  and  vainly  strug- 
gling for  the  actual  neces.saries  of  life.    There 
is  always  some  gulf  in  which  the  resources 
of  the  natioii   are  swallowed   up  in   behalf 
of  this  terrible  despotism  called  '  HELioiO',* 
which,  while  ostentatiously  claiming  to  bo 
the   handmaid  of  charity,  exhibits  its  sordid- 
ness  by  its  unjust  distribution  of  pence  to  the 
poor  and  pounds  to  tlio  church,  rags  for  the 
pauper  and  robes   for  the  priest.     This  has 
been  the  result  of  its  influence  ;  it  has  conse- 
crated imposition,  and  almost  dethroned  hu- 
manity. 

"  On  all  sides  of  us  we  see  churches  tower- 
ing up,  the  most  magnificent  and  costly 
buildings  in  the  land.  In  every  city,  town, 
village  or  harah^t  in  Christendom,  the  most 
prominent  object  is  the  sanctuary.  A  house 
must  be  provided  for  the  Lord,  though  tlie 
poor  perish  on  the  highway.  All  sects,  while 
preaching  humility,  seem  to  delight  in  a  ri- 
valry for  fine  churches;  the  extravagancy  in 
this  respect  is  unbounded.  There  are  now, 
nearly  or  about  a  thou.sand  of  such  edifices 
in  London  alone,  erected  at  a  cost  of  mil- 
lions.* These  magnificent  piles  are  but  sel- 
dom used,  and,  save  a  few  hours  every  week, 
they  remain  closed  to  all  the  world.  Accord- 
ing to  tlie  arrogance  of  clerical  opinion,  it 
would  be  desecration  to  devote  them  to  any 
thing  else  than  religion.  Were  the  opinion 
not  so  prevalent.  Science  would  not  have  to 
tremble  so  often  in  a  shed,  while  Religion 
was  exalted  under  a  giidtxl  canopy.  Through- 
out the  land,  you  will  find  a  chnrch  where 
no  proper  refuge  for  the  poor  has  baen 
provided,  or  where  no  public  school  lias 
been  yet  erected.  You  will  find  poor,  home- 
less wanderers,  for  whom  no  adequate  prtwi- 
sion  has  been  made  ;  hopeless  men,  forlorn 
women,  and  shivering  children,  who  would 
gladly  find  a  shelter  within  such  walls.  Our 
poor-house  prisons  are  not  homes  for  the  poor, 
they  are  prisons ;  and  the  man  who  is  once 
forced  to  enter  their  walls  feels  forever  de- 
graded. They  are  a  disgrace  to  our  ago. 
The  splendid  religious  temples,  so  numerous 
around  us,  have  never  yet  been  devoted  to 
the  beneficent  purposes  of  humanity.  The 
night  shadows  of  bleak  winter  may  fall  heav- 
ily around  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  the  cold 
winds  may  blow,  and  drifting  snow  or  tor- 
rents of  rain  may  fall  on  the  frozen  earth, 
but  the  desolate  and  wretched  who  wander 
through  the  streets,  and  who  know  not  where 
to  lay  their  heads,  may  look  longingly  in 
vain  at  that  great  Christian  monument.  It 
will  be  no  asylum  for  them  ;  they  are  our 

*  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  London,  is  over  five  hundred 
feet  long,  covers  two  acres  of  ground,  and  cost  the  na- 
tion £1,500,00U  sterling— about  $7,600,000— which  was 
collected  by  a  tax  on  coal  1 


00 


EXETER   HALL. 


y  :'"•: 


111' 


''fit 


national  vajrrnnfs,  for  wliom  no1)Ofly  carcH. 
Tlicy  may  rcHt  tlunr  woaricd  IhuliH  wlu-ns  tliny 
can,  undiT  door  steeps  and  poflit^s  ;  tlicy  may 
lean  ajjtiinHt  dead  wallH,  or  crouch  into  cor- 
nors,  or  crci-p  into  filthy  drains  or  wnvors;  hut 
St.  Paul's  can  not  ho  iM)llut(!d  hy  such  a  rah- 
ble.  Onr  religious  civilization  will  not  stand 
this ;  such  nohle  structures  art!  evidences  of 
national  taste — of  our  honiajife  to  su]ierstition. 
They  are  consecrated  and  dedicated,  hut  must 
not  he  desecrated  hy  overdone  etlbrts  of 
practical  henevolence  ;  it  would  do  violence 
to  reliffious  feelinjy,  and  he,  8imj)ly  and  V)lain- 
ly,  sacrileji-e.  The  rich  cushitui  made  for  the 
knee  of  wealth  must  not  ho  used  as  a  pillow 
for  the  poor  man's  head." 

Mr.  ("ajiel  felt  surprised  at  the  vehemence 
of  his  host ;  th(To  was  a  certain  amount  of 
trutli  in  what  he  had  just  lieard,  and  which 
he  could  not  deny.  Pious  extra vajrance  in  the 
erection  and  ornamentation  of  churches  was 
rcost  remarkable.  He  had  liad  positive  evi- 
dence, time  after  time,  that  \Josi)el  ministers 
were  not  all  saints,  wen;  no  better  than  other 
men,  hut  in  many  respects  far  less  liberal 
and  intellifjent ;  that  the  numerous  sects 
were  not  charitably  disposed  toward  each 
other,  or  always  governed  liy  just  principles; 
hut  he  thoufrht  that  religion  was  not  to 
blame  for  this  ;  it  was  rather  the  want  of  it. 
He  felt  embarrassed  as  to  how  he  should  re- 
ply, relative  to  the  so-called  desecration  of 
churches.  The  idea  advanced  hy  Mr.  Man 
nors  was  ne ./  to  him,  and  liis  better  nature 
inclined  h'  i  to  think  that  it  could  not  be  an 
unholy  act  to  give  such  shelter  to  tlie  poor, 
where  shelter  was  so  much  needed.  The  tem- 
ple in  which  active  charity  was  displayed 
could  not  be  less  agreeable  to  the  Lord  tlian 
thr.t  which  was  res(Tved  for  a  mere  ]iompous 
exliibition  of  faith  without  works.  It  would 
he  uiiRcult,  how(>ver,  to  reduce  such  a  theory 
to  practice  ;  clerical  ofnnion  was  stubborn  on 
this  point.  He  would  think  more  on  that 
subject. 

"  You  imagine  it  is  rather  a  Avant  of  reli- 
gion," said  Mr.  Mannors.  '•  I  shall  speak  to 
you  concerning  this  again ;  but,  I  ask,  is 
there  not  something  wrong  in  so  mucli  reli,g- 
ious  ostentation  ?  Is  not  the  accumulation 
and  display  of  ecclesiastical  wealth  signifi- 
cant ?  The  history  of  religion  in  this  island 
is  a  national  disgrace  ;  its  race  of  intolerance 
and  o]»pn,'.ssion  is  nearly  run  :  Init  it  has  been 
a  galling  fetter  upon  the  noblest  impulses  of 
our  people.  Witness  the  cupidity  of  the 
priest-power  of  this  nation  at  the  present 
day.  All  must  succumb  to  the  fraudulent 
exaction  of  church  rates,  and  to  the  cease- 
less importunities  of  the  so-called  voluntary 
systems,  which  are  almost  as  (>xtortionate. 
There  is  something  wrong  in  all  this.  With 
the  immense  sums  annually  expended  for  re- 
ligion, we  have  in  our  British  cities  as  much 
crime  and  destitution  as  you  will  find  in  an 
equal  number  of  heathen  cities  in  any  part 
of  the  world.  We  may  boast  of  our  civiliza- 
tion, but  we  are  still  as  obdurate,  as  selfish, 
and  as  inhuman  as  thostj  who  have  nev»n'  yet 
opened  a  Bible.  We  have  enough  for  all, 
yet  thousands  pre  starving.  A  few  monopo- 
lize the  wealth,  a  few  more  the  land.   Passive 


obedience  is  preadwd  "        ir  churches,  and  the 
poor  an^   driven   to  'ration   and   crime. 

I  We  boast  of  British  linv — laws  that  are  based 
'  np(m  the  ])rinciple  of  revenge  instead  of  re- 
j  form.     If  u  num  can  not  juvy  his  debts,  weim- 
I  jmson   him ;  if  he  commits  a  certain  crime. 
!  we  take   his   life:   we  still  luivo  an  eye  for 
I  an   eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tiK)tli.      lleligion 
lias  n(n'er  had  any  great  regard  for  human 
life.     In  ancient  times,  by  its  sanction,  men 
were  robbed  of  their  existence  for  trifiing  of- 
fenses ;  and  until  lately,  even  in  this  civilized 
kingdtmi,  death  «as  the  ])enalty  for  oft'enses 
a  conviction  for  which  may  now  bring  but  a 
f(«\v  month's  imj)ris(mment ;  and  still,  notwith- 
standing the  etliiils  of  the  humane,  a  painful 
death  is  the  legal  remedy  for  misdemeanors 
made  crimes,  and  for  crimes  nn\d<!  capitnl,  by 
the  persistency  of  Christian  legislation." 

"  I  must  difier  from  you,"  replied  Mr.  Capel. 
"I  think  Christianity  lias  mitigated  the  rigor 
of  our  laws  ;  it  has  humanized  our  legisla 
tion,  no  doubt  of  it ;  and  I  think  that  we,  as 
Christian  people,  have  good  reason  to  boast 
of  the  intluence  of  religion  in  this  respect." 

"  I  fear  you  have  forgotten.  It  is  well 
known  that  Christianity  has  claimed  to  be 
the  author  of  reforms  which  the  church  at 
first  opposed  ;  this  is  characteristic  of  its 
course.  When  a  few  reformers  aroused  the 
ation  against  the  enormities  of  the  slave- 
trade,  who  was  it  that  upheld  the  system? 
Who  was  it  that  waved  aloft  the  lash  of  the 
task  ma' "^"r,  and  tried  to  smother  the  hu- 
mane,' nerciful  impulse  imder  a  cloud  of 
texts  V  national   jn-iests!      During  the 

agitati.  -.  ..i  that  question,  some  years  ago, 
the  late  Lord  Eldon  sarcastically  said,  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  'that  he  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  ht'l'cve  tlu^  slav(vtrade  was  irrecon- 
cilable with  the  Christian  religiim,  as  the 
})cneh  of  bishops  had  uniformly  sanctioned 
by  their  votes  the  various  acts  of  Parliament 
authorizing  that  trade.'*  I  must  remind  you 
that  when  pttitions  were  H(>nt  to  Parliament 
against  the  death  pennlfi/,  many  of  our  minis- 
ters and  preachers  denounced  tlio  movement 
from  the  pul])it,  and  successfully  used  their 
influence  against  its  aboliti<m.  '  Whoso 
sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood 
bo  shed,'  is  still  the  favorite  text  in  support 
of  legalized  murder.f  If  Christianity  has 
mitigated  the  rigor  of  our  laws,  the  same  ex- 
cellence was  claimed  for  it  when  Catholic  and 
Protestant  inquisitors  endi-avored  to  enforce 
their  mild  doctrines  through  the  medium  of 
the  wheel,  the  rack,  the  thumbscrcuv,  and  the 
boot ;  by  roasting  and  disjointing,  by  jtressing; 
tearing,  crushing,  and  defacing,  and  by  muti- 
lating and  torturing  the  liuman  body  in  every 
imaginable  way!  And  it  can  not  be  denied 
that  these  cruelties  Avere  entirely  of  Christian 
origin.  This,  my  frien<l,  is  a  dreadful  history : 
and  if  our  laws  are  becoming  more  lenii^nt,  it 
is  liecause  humanity  has  triumphed  over  the 
scruples  of  religion." 
Mr.  Capel  paused  for  a  few  moments  before 

*    NoteC. 

+  "  Rev  Chas.  B.  S pavo  his  views  on  marrlape 

nnrt  divorce,  at  the  Cooper  Iiistitnte,  New-York,  on 
Sunday  evening.  lie  thonglit  tlie  only  penalty  Tor 
adultery  was  the  death  of  the  guilty  partits."  Vrom 
a  Philadelphia  paper,  1S07. 


irlu'S,  and  tlio 
n  and  crinic. 
llmt  nrc  ))iiHt'<l 
hiKtfiid  of  rc- 
1  debts,  W(«im- 
[•crtnin  rrimo, 
vo  an  (iy«  f(tr 
;h.  Hclijrion 
•d  for  human 
lanction,  men 
lor  triflinpf  of- 
I  tliisciviHzcd 
y  for  oltbnsos 
V  brinj;  but  a 
t^till,  notwith- 
anc,  a  painful 
[uisdenieanors 
(l«s  rnpitnl,  by 
islation." 
iod  Mr.  Capel. 
att'd  the  rigor 
d  our  legiula 
k  that  we,  as 
uRon  to  boast 
is  respect." 

It  ia  well 
•laiined  to  be 
he  church  at 
eristic  of   its 
3  aroused  the 
of   the  slave- 
tlio  system? 
e  lash  of  the 
itln^r  the  hu- 
iler  a  cloud  of 
During  the 
le  years  ago, 
y  said,  in  the 
ot  bring  him- 
was  irrecon- 
igion,  as  the 
y   sanctioned 
f  Parliament 
kt  ri>mind  you 
|o  Parliament 
of  our  minls- 
10  movement 
y  used  their 
im.      '  Whoso 
uill  his  blood 
|;t  in  support 
istianity  has 
the  same  ex- 
Catholic  and 
(1  to  enforce 
>  medium  of 
rew,  and  the 
,  l)y  jtressing; 
|and  by  muti- 
ody  in  every 
)t  be  denied 
of  Christian 
|(lful  history : 
re  lenient,  it 
led  over  the 

knonts  before 


rs  on  marrlapc 

New-York,  on 

|ily  penalty  lor 

iirtics."    T!'rom 


EXETER    HALL. 

he  replied.      lie  could   not  positivc^ly  deny  (  vine  word, 
what  had  Ikh-h  asserted,  and  he  hesitated,  in  |  siou." 


51 

Truth  can  not  suffer  by  discus- 


the  hope  that  he  might  be  able  to  find  stmio 

flea.  "  I  do  not,"  said  he,  "  admit  that 
operyis  Christianity.  The  intiuisition  wasa 
disgnue,  fur  whicii  our  purer  faith  should  not 
bo  held  acoiuntable." 

I   make  Imt   little  di.stinction,"  said  Mr. 


"  I  ara  much  pleased  to  liear  you  say  so.  I 
feel  that  I  have  si)«il;eu  warmly  «m  this  sub- 
ject, I  am  obliged  to  do  so  ;  and  I  well  know 
the  penalty  which  must  bo  paid  for  the  free 
expression  of  opinion.  Our  ministers  are 
ever  ready  to  denounce  any  iwrson  who  may 


Maniiors.  "  Tlie  leaven  of  intolerance  is  in  the  |  venture  to  question  what  you  call  'Divine 
whole  I'lmp,  eu(di  in  turn  )»ersecuting  the  j  lievelation.'  Instead  of  courting  investigar 
other.  You  surely  can  not  forget  the  enormi-  tion,  they  try  to  avoid  it.  They  are  a  |>opu- 
ties  of  the  Star  Chamber;  you  can  not  Ibrget  |  lar  and  influential  bmly,  and  it  is  not  always 
the  liercc  vindictive  jiersecution  that  raged  for  i  safe  to  hurl  a  stone  against  a  popular  idol, 
years  among  the  Protijstant  sects — Episcopa-    It  recjuires  no  small  share  of  moral  courage 


lian  again.st  Dissenter,  Puritan  against  Cjuuk 
er.  I  will  not  recall  the  enormities,  they  are 
loo  i>aint'ul.  But  I  will  ask  you,  plainly, 
after  all  our  church-imilding,  and  preaching, 
and  ])riiying  ;  after  all  that  has  been  extorted 
for  the  maintenance  of  thousands  of  priests, 
of  all  demmiinations — what  is  the  result  of 
our  boastful  Christianity  ?  Has  it  lessened 
the  brutalities  of  war  I    Has  it  made  men 


denying,  more  forgiving,  than  those  of  re 
motij  times,  who  had  never  heard  the  OosimjI 
Bound  Y  What  have  we  as  the  grand  re- 
ilult  V" 

"  People  who  can  resort  to  persecution 
have  never  been  imbued  with  a  true  Christian 
principle,"  replied    Mr.  Capel.     "  I  care   not 


to  smite  the  image* ;  but  if  the  duty  falls  to 
my  lot,  then  it  shall  be  i)erformed ;  I  am 
willing  to  strike  the  blow  alone.  I  was  once 
a  believer,  as  you  now  are  ;  I  can  believe  no 
longer.  I  know  that  it  requires  much  pa^ 
tience  and  fortitude  to  contend  against  a  pop- 
ular error.  I  respect  the  honest  oi)inion8  of 
men  of  all  creeds  ;  I  interfere  not  with  them ; 
but  if  any  are  desirous  of  approaching  the 


more    humane,  more    generous,  more    self-,,  light,  they  shall  have  my  sympathies.     It  is 


hard  to  be  maligned  by  men  who  profess  to 
have  been  regenerated,  yet  who  have  not 
learned  the  lesson  of  charity.  For  years 
I  have  been  misrepn^sented  by  certain  of 
your  preachers,  because  I  can  not  bring 
myself  to  a  passive  belief  of  all  that  is  re- 
corded in  the  Scriptures.     The  late  meeting 


how  tiu-y  art!  called  ;  tli    man  Avho  persecutes  i  of  your  Bible  Society  ought,  I  think,  to  satisfy 


for  o]  unions  sake  is  x\><\  a  Christian.  I  can 
not  admit  that  C'hristiauity  is  answerable  for 
the  enormities  of  which  you  speak." 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Mannors,  "  I  do  not  un- 
derstand where  Christianity  is  to  be  found, 
if  not  among  those  who  preach  and  those 
who  profess  it;  if  I  can  not  find  it  among 
the  tried   and  true   believers   who   are,  and 

•  Jiave  been,  as  ready  to  die  for  the  faith  as 
jthey  have  been  to  persecute — where  is  it  to 
be  found  '?  Ah  my  friend  1  do  not  mistake 
your  natural  sense  of  justice  for  the  gift  of 
kith." 

,  "  If  wo  l(H)k  for  pure  Christianity,"  an- 
swered Mr.  Cap(!l,  "  we  must  look  for  it  in  the 
Bible  alone.  Were  men  to  be  entirely  guided 
by  its  divine  teachings,  our  world  would  be 
different  from  what  it  is.  Professors  of  re- 
ligion an^  I  ailmit,  too  often  governed  by  an- 
gry passions  ;  they  exliiljit  a  want  of  forbear- 
ance. The  Bible  denounces  error,  but  has  no 
plea  for  persecution.  There  is  not  a  text  be- 
tween its  covers  that  favors  such  a  princii)le." 
_•'  Then  I  do  not  understand  the  Bible," 
said  Mr.  Mannors,  "  I  consider  its  teaching 
essentially  intolerant ;  and  when  I  read  such 
texts  as  this,  '  If  there  come  any  unto  you 
and  bring  not  this  doctrine,  receive  him  not 
Into  your  house,  neither  bid  him  God-speed,' 
(John  2:  10,)  I  am  justified  in  believing  that 
it  favors  persLCuti(ni.  The  anathema  mara- 
nathd  is  (sver  ready.  But  as  it  is  now  getting 
late,  w«!  shall  not  pursue  this  subject  any  fur- 
ther at  [irest'nt.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  converse 
with  you,  ana  I  hope  you  will  bear  with  me 

iiheri'at'ter  if  I  venturtf  to  give  you  my  opinion 

r.of  tlie  Bibk?  more  i)hiinly." 

,,.     "  I  am  ready,"  said  Mr.  Capel,  "  to  listen  to 

■  any  argiuueut,  either  for  or  against  the  di- 


you  that  some  who  profess  to  be  ministeis  of 
Christ  are  wicked  and  designing.  I  know  of 
but  one  who  was  at  that  meeting  who  is  actu- 
allj'^  infamous.  I  know  of  one  who  is  courted 
and  smiled  upon,  and  treated  as  the  principal 
pillar  of  one  of  the  great  religious  bodies, 
whose  voice  has  charmed  many  in  the  sanctu- 
ary, but  whose  fierce  intolerance  has  brought 
sorrow  to  his  own  home ;  and  there  may  be 
yet  one  poor  broken  heart  to  cry  out  against 
him,  '  How  long,  O  Lord  !  how  long  1 '" 


CHAPTER  X. 

Eahlt  next  morning,  when  Mr.  Capel 
looked  froni  his  window,  he  was  delighted 
with  the  fine  panoramic  view  which  he  ob- 
tained of  the  distant  city  and  surrounding 
scenery.  Faint  streaks  of  red  light  in  the 
east  betokened  the  coming  glory  of  the  ris- 
ing sun,  and  in  a  short  time  those  early  har- 
bingers of  the  day  god  were  spread  around 
in  all  directions,  illuminating  every  object, 
crowning  the  distant  hills  with  ruddy  light, 
and  sending  golden  rays  over  ancient  tree 
and  castle,  and  then  flashing  on  a  hundred 
glittering  spires  of  the  proud  metropolis. 
The  great  cross  of  St.  Paul's  was  again  visi- 
ble in  the  morning  sky  ;  and  that  which  had 
been  observed  by  Mrs.  Mannors  as  a  cause  of 
so  much  superstitious  reverence  was  now 
only  more  noticeable  from  its  great  altitude, 
not  from  any  thing  peculiar  in  its  appearance. 

He  mused  as  the  sunlight  rested  on  the 
window-sill,  and  threw  a  glimmer  on  the 
rustling  ivy  that  was  creeping  upward  with 
silent  progress.    He  still  looked  toward  the 


-''n 


62 


EXETER  HALL. 


'■:+-l 


city,  and  felt  a  degree  of  surprise  at  the  vast 
number  of  towers  and  steeples  wliich  were 
looming  up,  as  if  trying  to  leave  the  smoky 
gloom,  and  the  darker  objects  by  which  they 
were  surrounded.  Iliese  numerous  struc- 
t'ures  called  to  his  remembrance  the  remarks 
of  his  friend  Mr.  Mannors.  What  vn'  i  sums 
must  have  been  expended  in  thei*^  erection ! 
ai  1^  the  question  again  tame,  Wliat  was  the 
result?  Could  it  be  that  the  world  was  in 
reality  no  better  than  if  they  had  been  so 
many  heathen  tem])le8?  Coiild  it  bo  that 
these  numerous  sanctuaries,  dedicated  to  God. 
had  not  made  the  mass  of  the  populace  of 
Ijordon  any  better,  but  had  been  erected  and 
consecvated  to  ])rovide  wealth,  ease,  and  dis- 
tinction for  a  horde  of  religious  stockbrokers 
and  professional  impostersV  Yet  this  was  the 
0])inion  of  thousands,  who  assert  that  they 
are  forced  toaidolerate  an  unscrupulous  priest- 
hood. He  was  willing  to  admit  that  thore 
was  a  portion  of  truth  in  the  supposition ; 
still  he  thought  that  such  p;i  extreme  view 
could  not  be  justified.  There  were,  no  doubt, 
many  stately  churches  which  had  been  built  as 
mucli  for  the  adornment  of  the  city  as  for 
^omples  for  worship ;  but  were  there  not 
ma.iy  othei  places  in  whicli  the  pure  word  of 
God  was  regularly  expounded  by  faithful, 
persevering  mon,  who,  in  the  very  midst  of 
tho  pride  and  pomp  of  this  mighty  Babylon 
were  not  ashamed  to  go  out  into  the  high- 
way&,  and  into  the  streets,  lanes  and  alleys  to 
call  upon  the  reckless  and  abandoned  ? 

But  wliy,  thought  he,  with  all  these 
churches  crowded  into  ev(>ry  quarter,  why  is 
tiiero  still  such  a  co.nplaint  of  "  religious 
destitution  "?  With  so  many  hundred  i)laces 
of  worship,  several  of  a  gorgeous  and  impos- 
ing appearancr,  ur..l  with  a  multitude  of 
priests,  irum  the  princely  archbishop,  loll- 
ing in  his  luxurious  carriage,  down  to  the 
most  humble  dissepting  itinerant,  there  was 
yet  an  amount  of  vice  and  ignorance  in  Jjon- 
don  that  was  almost  overwhelming.  By  the 
immensity  of  aids  and  appliances  which 
('h  ristianicy  had  at  its  command — wealth, 
power,  and  authority — any  religious  system, 
M<  rmonism  or  Mohammedanism,  or  any  other 
ism,  no  matter  how  monstrous,  absurd,  or  de- 
basing to  human  reason,  might  be  inculcated 
and  established  by  resolute  men.  Yet  even  with 
these  very  means,  to  an  enormous  extent,  tlui 
Complaint  still  was,  that  tbe  national  faith 
was  languishing,  and  tliat  many,  even  among 
piiests  and  pir  us  literati,  began  to  doubt,  just 
as  if  Christianity  was  behind  the  age — a 
drag  upon  science,  and  as  if  it  contained  no 
intrinsif!  excellence  that  could  not  be  made 
sufficiency  mai.ifest  without  the  persuasive 
airi  of  Q-old,  legal  enactments,  and  priestly 
pensioners. 

Almost  ev^ry  city  paper  containnd,  periodi- 
cally, account  of  some  great  nictating,  got  u]) 
by  th(»  clergy,  for  the  ])urpose  of  making  ])ious 
appeals  to  tho  benevolent  for  fresh  means  lO 
meet  tho  spiritual  wants  said  to  be  so  fast  in- 
creasing. Did  these  wants  arise  from  an  in- 
crease of  sinners,  or  an  increase  of  priests'? 
Every  possible  method  was  used  to  induce  the 
people  to  resort  to  places  of  worship ;  and  to 
„«-..,.i    ii.! -     particidurly,   the    ministry 


tinited,  almost  to  a  man,  in  making  pulpit  ap- 
peals against  Sabbath  d«-s<'cration.  Tliey 
hnidly  d'jcried  against  a  resort  to  ])ublic  parks, 
gardens,  libraries,  or  museums,  but  all  to  no 
]niri)08e ;  the  great  mass  of  the  working  people 
would  not  come  under  the  clerical  yoke  :  and  if 
debarred  from  such  favorite  places,  many 
might  wander  away  among  green  fields  or 
pleasant  highways,  while  too  many  others 
would  defiantly  resort  to  dram-shops,  gin 
palaces,  or  dens  of  depravity.  It  was  proved  by 
official  returns,  that  the  numerous  churches 
and  chapels  already  erected  were  on  the  aver- 
age not  more  than  one  third  filled  by  regular 
attendants  ;  and  it  was  a  Avell  known  fact  that, 
with  regard  to  the  Established  Church,  not 
more  thnn  one  third  of  the  number  of  its 
clerical  incumbents  ever  did  more  for  religion 
than  go  through  the  occasional  formality  of 
reading  titurgical  prayers,  or  delivering  a 
languid  sermon — oft(>n  the  composition  of  some 
neecly  author.  Yet  still  these  very  incumbents 
who  live  in  ease,  and  revel  in  such  ducal  in- 
•comes,  or  draw  such  exorbitant  salaries,  are, 
without  tho  least  comi)unction,  among  tlu! 
very  first  to  shout  out,  "  More  money,  more 
churche'-,  more  priests,  and  more  Sunday 
restrict  if  ns." 

These  circumstances  were  degrading  to  re 
ligi(m.  1'he  truth  was  not  ]iroached,  but  it 
was  made  merchandise  of  by  unscrupulousftien, 
whose  priestly  trade  v. . .shut  a  s^ource  of  wealth 
to  themselves  and  a  tax  on  the  nation.  The 
Queen,  Lords,  and  Commons  united  in  support 
of  that  gr^at  n^ligifuis  impositicm  called 
"  Th(!  Church  ;"  and  our  legislators  stood  agapt.' 
if  any  one  dared  to  question  such  a  palpable 
outrage.  The  church  must  bo  protected  even 
though  blood  should  bo  daily  shed  in  su])- 
port  of  its  exactions. 

But  then,  thought  he,  tho  dissenting 
ministers  are  a  different  class  ;  were  it  not  for 
them,  Christianity  in  Britain  would  be  almost 
extinct.  These  ministers  might  in  reality  Ik 
called  the  "  successors."  They  were  ^lersons 
who  cared  not  to  ])reach  for  the  sak(»  of  filthy 
lucre;  the  soids  of  nun  were  of  more  value  to 
them  than  rich  livings  or  ecclesiastical  prefer 
ments.  But,  alas  !  even  among  dissenters,  there 

:o;;, 


I 


effect    this  more 


were  only  a  few  of  such  preachers.  They, 
had  undoubteiliy  beconxi  more  worldly.  The 
strife  and  bitter  fettling  among  the  various 
sects  seemed  to  grow  with  their  growth,  and 
strengthen  w'+h  their  str(>ngth.  This  con 
tinned  strife  w«s  quite  sutficicnit  to  counteract 
all  tho  good  that  had  beea  done;  by  tho  most 
successful  revivalists.  Ami  now,  at  the  present 
day,  while  places  of  worship  have  been  (|uadru 
])hKl ;  when  preaching  has  beconu)  a  lucrative 
trade;  while  the  younger  sons  of  the  Britisli 
aristocracy  are  foisted  ijito  bisho])ricH — tukinir 
precedence  of  merit  in  tlie  church  as  they  do 
of  valor  in  the  army — when  clergymen  and 
jn'eachers  of  all  ranks  and  conditions  are  aim 
ing  a+'ter  popularity  and  distinction,  whili- 
sects  and  denominations  of  all  kinds  have  be 
come  wealthy  and  infiuentiul,  and  while  tin" 
Ciiristian  creed  has  an  a'gis  of  protection  in 
tho  strong  arm  of  the  law,  the  rtyiigious 
world  is  actually  retrograding,  and  religion 
itself  is  held  among  many  of  the  most  giftt'd 
and  intelligent  to  be  only  u  delusion. 


IS 

sel 
tuf 
ml 
fr| 
wj 

iu| 

of] 

of  I 

bel 

dv 

hoi 

ani 

in" 

M« 

e&t 

8m| 

Ma 

eitl 
an( 
asi 
I 
gra 
Iftof 
tivi 
of] 


liXETER    HALL. 


58 


\nfr  pulpit  ap- 
ition.  'Dwy 
I  public  parks, 
hut  all  to  no 
orkitifT  people 
1  yoke  :  and  if 
places,  many 
con  fields  or 
many  others 
in-shops,  pin 
was  proved  by 
•ous  churclu'S 
;  on  the  avor- 
i>d  by  rej^uhu- 
own  fact  that, 
1  Church,  not 
lumber  of  its 
re  for  rolio'jon 
1  formality  ol 
delivering  n 
)sition  of  some 
ry  incumbents 
such  ducal  in- 
;  galaries,  are. 
,  among  the 
money,  more 
more    Sunday 

rrading  to  re- 
-ached,  but  it 
rupulousttien, 
urce  of  wealth 

nation.  The 
ted  in  support 
osition  called 
)rs  stood  agK\if 
^h  a  ])ali)able 
)rotected  even 

shed  in  buji- 

dipflenting 

re  it  not  for 

uld  be  almotit 

in  reality  \k 

W(>re  persons 

Nike  of  filthy 

more  value  to 

stical  prefer 

.senters,  there 

They,tnr„ 

orldly.    Tho 

the   various 

growth,  anil 

This   con 

0  counteract 
by  the  most 

it  the  present 
been  (|uadni 
10  a  lucrative 
f  the  Uritisli 
iricH — takinif 

1  as  they  dd 
rgymen  ami 
ions  are  aim 
dion,  wliili' 
ids  have  be 

d  while  till' 
)r<ttection  in 
le  nViigious 
iind  religion 
most  gifted 
on. 


These   were  strange  thoughts  for  a  young 

{jreaciier  to  indulge  in,  but  they  were  such  as 
lad  obtruded  upon  hiui  at  the  time.  He  could 
not  reject  tiie  evidence  that  had  forcibly  pre- 
sented itsi^lf  day  after  day.  Again  he  tried  to 
turn  from  these  unpleasant  ogitalioua ;  be- 
neath him  was  the  smiling  garden,  and  the 
fresh  fragrance  of  the  morning  ascended  to 
where  In;  stood.  Spring  liowers  wiTc  fling- 
ing their  incensi?  to  the  young  day,  and  buds 
of  beauty  that  had  Ix'en  cared  for  by  the  hand 
ofa  fair  girl  were  blushing  in  the  early  sun- 
beams. What  ])eace  aeeined  to  rest  upon  tho 
dwelling!  When  ho  thought  of  his  friendly 
host,  it.  WHS  with  a  feciing  of  sincere  pleasure, 
and  he  felt  grateful  that  his  liin^s  had  fallen 
in  S'jcli  pleiis.iut  places.  lb*  thought  of  Mary 
Manners ;  luT  song  soeuKjil  to  linger  in  his 
6ar  ;  her  iiniige  was  before  liim,  and  her  sweet 
Qmih:  rose  like  ravliance  in  his  memory.  Mrs. 
Jtfannors  he  considered  an  excellent  woman — 
good,  ])ioiis,  anil  charitable,  but  far  behind 
©ithe,r  father  or  daughter  iai  mental  qualities  ; 
and  already  to  him  did  that  daughter  ajjpear 
as  the  special  angel  of  the  household. 

Indeed,  Mr.  Capel  might  be  justified  in 
granting  that  position  to  Mary  Manners.  Al- 
lAost  every  thing  that  was  beautiful  or  attrac- 
tive in  or  about  Hampstead  Cottage  bore  traces 
of  her  sujierintendence.  In  fine  weather,  she 
speat  much  of  her  time  in  the  garden.  She 
trimmed  the  shrubs,  trained  the  vines,  nursed 
young,  delicate  plants,  and  petted  the  birds  in 
the  hall  ;  and  when  slu!  approached  the  cages, 
the  little  inmates  became  at  once  vocal..  With 
William  as  her  almost  constant  attendant,  the 
flower  ])ots,  the  flowers,  the  fountain,  the  rock 
work,  and  even  the  nciat  graveled  walks,  were 
all  kept  more  trim  and  orderly  by  her  indus- 
trious cure.  She  was  also  quite  competent 
to  supeiiutend  hoiiseluddaftairs. 

What  a  blessing,  thought  >'  Capel,  she 
might  be  to  ]u'v  motiier  were  .she  only  brought 
under  the  full  influence  of  religion,  and  not  to 
jlier  mother  alone,  but  to  luu-  father ;  for  she 
Iniglit  1)0  a  missiouary,  whose  gentle  teaching 
livould  be  more  ])ersuasive  to  a  mmd  liko  his 
than  that  of  the  most  skillful  ixileniie,  or  than 
theargiini'jiitot'tlii;  most  learned  pulpit  oration. 

The  events  of  the  previous  eviiiiing  passed 
rapidly  before  him,  and  lie  began  to  reflect 
upou  the  duty  which  he  had  undertaken.  He 
was  gnsatly  ]>leased  with  the  iVaiik,  courteous 
disposition  of  Mr.  Manuors  ;  but  he  feared  it 
would  be  a  dilliciilt  task  to  make  hiiu  l)elieve 
that  the  sentiments  which  he  held  upon 
religious  subjects  were  erron(X)us. 

Mr.  Capel,  as  well  as  other  ))reac,hors,  oft(ui 
liad  troublesome  doubts  ari.se  in  his  own 
mind,  he  often  felt  confused  abiuit  various 
ambiguous  passages  in  the  IJibte,  and 
about  tlieir  various  interpretations.  He 
was  often  pm-plexetl  by  contradictory  chap- 
tens,  verses,  and  texts ;  and  the  bare  idea  of 
etcrna/,  punishment  was  most  repulsive, 
and  conflicted  greatly  with  his  couci-ption 
of  divine  benevolence.  It  would  not,  iiow- 
■  ever,  be  prudent  to  mention  these  doubts  to 
any  one;  least  of  all  to  the  ]»ersou  whom  he 
Was  now  di'sirous  of  reclaiming  from  error. 

I  have  been,  thought  Mr.  Cajjel,  too  much 
like  a  doubtiuy  'J'homas,  over  ready  to  stumble 


1  over  the  slightest  obstruction.  I  have  allowed 
my  frail  reason  to  interfere  with  my  faith,  and 
if  I  do  not  suppress  these  rebt-tiious  thoughts, 
as  others  in  the  faith  make  it  a  duty  to  do, 
I  may  go  on  forever  doubting  and  reasoning 
and  reasoning  and  doubting,  until  I  shall  have 
stepped  over  the  precipice  which  has  brought 
destruction  to  so  many.  Why  should  I  set  up 
my  opinions  against  those  of  the  most  able 
and  intellectual  that  England  has  produced': 
Why  should  I  hesitate  to  accept  that  which 
has  been  tried  by  a  Wesley,  a  Clark,  and  a 
Paley?  G reat  minds  have  submitted  to  reve- 
lation, and  surely  /  can  not  refuse  the  truth 
which  has  been  so  apparent  and  conclusive 
to  them.  To  doubt  what  Newtou  believed 
would  be  folly  and  pressumption. 

Before  he  left  his  room,  he  decided  to  be 
more  prayerful,  to  try  and  banish  every  doubt, 
and  to  place  full  trust  in  the  Lord.  He 
would  speak  to  Mr.  Manners  in  all  sinceri- 
ty ;  he  would  tell  him  of  his  lost  state  by 
nature,  and  how  he  might  be  enlightened  by 
the  Divine  Spirit,  and  how  he  miglit  be  saved 
by  jdacing  all  trust  in  the  propitiatory  sacri- 
fice made  for  every  child  of  Adam.  He  would 
in  this  matter  boldly  take  up  his  cross,  and 
the  Lord  would  not  be  forgetful  of  his 
promise,  but  would  reveal  himself,  and  estab- 
lish his  own  truth.  That  truth  must  be  ir- 
resistible, particularly  to  one  who,  like  Mr. 
Manners  was  a  sincere  incjuirer,  and  who 
could  in  calm  discussion  throw  aside  every 
prc^judice  and  submit  to  honest  conviction. 

As  Mr.  Capel  entered  the  parlor  Miss  Man- 
ners had  just  commenced  to  ])lay  one  of 
Betithoven's  beautiful  sonatas ;  she  was  not 
a\vare  of  the  presence  of  the  young  preacher. 
She  sat  in  her  loose  morning  dri>ss,  and  t!very 
motion  was  the  perfection  of  grace.  Her  un- 
bound golden  hair  hung  o'-ound  her  snowy 
shoulders,  and  her  delicate  fingers  ran  along 
the  keys  witli  finished  touch,  sending  out  the 
most  exquisite  harmony.  What  little  seraphs 
had  once  seemed  to  his  boyish  mind,  Mary 
was  now  to  his  manhood  ;  and  as  she  still 
played,  her  ])resenco  and  her  music  had  such 
a  magical  eflect  that  neither  by  word  nor 
action  could  he  interrupt  the  fair  i)erformer, 
and  he  listened  delighted  ^pid  spellbound  for 
the  time. 

When  the  piece  was  finished,  he  addressed 
Miss  Manners.  She  was  a  little  surprised,  and 
a  faint  blush  overspread  her  face,  greatly  add- 
ing to  her  personal  attractions,  and  rcnider- 
iiig  the  clear  blue  eyes  which  she  had  now 
turned  toward  him  singularly  fascinating. 
She  had  not  the  least  idea  that  he  had  '>een  a 
listener  in  the  very  room  ;  and  now  that  tiiey 
were  alone  for  the  first  time,  she  felt  slightly 
embarrassed,  But  with  her,  such  a  fending 
-could  be  only  momentary  ;  she  looked  ui>  at 
j  him  confidently,  and  said:  ''  I  hope  i  played 
one  of  your  favorite  pieces.  Pa  says  you  are 
a  good  judge  of  music,  and  indeed  I  think  so 
too.  I  ftincy  I  heard  your  voice  last  evening, 
you  sang  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  quit 
suddenly  us  if  you  were  afraid.  Let  me  see, 
Quakers,  I  believe,  never  indulge!  in  music. 
How  strange  !     Is  it  sinful  to  sing ".''' 

"  Oh!  not  at  all ;  we  sing  in  our  worship, 
i  wo  praise  Uod  in  music." 


64 


EXETER    HALL. 


"  Yes,  of  courso  you  sing  hymns  ;  but  such 
Bongs  only.  Now,  you  are  a  minister,  and  T 
think  you  will  acknowledge  that  no  one  can 
be  very  bad  who  is  readiiy  touched  or  alFected 
by  music.  Ma  used  to  tell  me  when  1  was  a 
child,  that  little  angels  were  continually  sing- 
ing delightful  melodies.  Music,  therefore, 
must  be  i  heavenly  accjuirement." 

"  He  \en  would  not,  I  think,  be  perfect 
without  it,"  said  Mr.  Capel.  "  Angels  are 
alwavs  musical ;  and  I  find  that  some  of  our 


after  his  conversion  that  Mr.  Wesley  used  to 
presume  to  be  the  '  chief  of  sinners. '  You 
can  not  believe  that  he  was.  Ma  and  Han- 
nah are  almost  always  telling  us  of  his  good- 
ncss  ;  and  to  read  his  interesting  journals, 
you  could  come  to  no  other  conclusion  than 
that  he  was  a  favorite  with  God  and  man. 
Yet  how  mistaken  good  men  can  be  some- 
times' !" 

"  Mr.  Wesley  was  certainly  a  blessing  to  the 
world,"  said  Mr   Capel  ;  "  he  was  particular- 


earthly  angels  are  very  like  their  sisters  in   ly  successful  as  a  preacher  of  ^ighteou8ne^^^, 


parauise. 

Miss  Mannors  again  blushed  slightly  ;  she 
was  perhajjs  a  little  confused  by  the  reply, 
but  she  continued  as  if  she  had  not  heard  it. 

"  I  can  not  on  that  account,"  said  she,  "  be  a 
very  great  pinner.  I  d(m't  pretendt  to  be  a 
saint,  but  I  find  that  even  some  of  our  most 
religious  persons  are  alwiays  deploring  their 
own  vileness,  as  they  call  it.  Now  really,  Mr. 
Capel,  don't  yoU  tliink  that  many  of  our  pious 
people  exaggerate  a  great  deal  with  such  re- 
ligious phraseology  of  self-condemnation  ? 
Now,  my  mamma  is  one  of  the  best  and  kindest 
hearts  in  all  the  world,  yet  she  is  given  to  be- 
wail her  own  sinfulness  ;  and  she  has  told  us 
over  fifty  times  that  we  in  this  quiet  place  ar« 
all  wicked  and  sinful,  and  very  bad  in  most 
respects.  Can  this  be  so?  And  Mr.  Wesley, 
who,  as  you  know,  was  a  very  good  man  natu- 
rally, and  1  supi)oso  much  better  for  having 
been  such  a  devoted  minister,  often  boasted — 
if  I  may  use  that  t^xjiression — that  he  was  the 
'chief  of  sinners'!  Was  not  such  an  assertion 
truly  and  positively  wrong  V  It  was  not  only 
a  very  absurd  exaggeration,  but  almost  if  not 
quite  a — of  courso  I  won't  say  what.  Don't 
you  think  so  V 

This  question,  simple  as  it  was,  and  put 
with  such  italirte,  really  disconcerted  him  for 
a  few  moments  ;  but  the  usual  orthodox  reply 
came  to  his  rescue,  and  he  said  : 

"  According  to  the  Scriptures,  Miss  ^fan- 
nors,  we  ar<^  all  sinners  by  nature.  We  are 
told  that  there  is  none  good,  no,  not  one. 
I  acknowledge  that  there  seems  to  be  an  ap- 
parent incongruity  in  the  assertion  to  which 
you  allude.      As  fallible  beings,  we  are   not 


and  no  doubt  many  are  now  among  the  re- 
deemed whom  he  can  claim  as  seiils  to  his 
ministry.  He  now  enjoys  his  heavenly  re- 
ward." 

"And  yet,  wonderful  to  relate,  he  was  all 
the  time  the  'chief  of  sinners.'  Well,  I  de- 
clare, Mr.  Capel,  there  is  something  very  in- 
consistent in  such  an  idea.  Then  you  believe 
that  the  Almighty  thinks  every  person  fit  for 
condemnation  but  the  regenerate  ;  and  that 
imtil  we  are  what  you  call  'born  again,'  wo 
are  all  equally  guilty,  and  must  all  perish 
alike  under  the  curse  of  the  law?  What 
injustice  to  make  me  answerable  for  the  sins 
of  another !  Why  did  God  permit  Adam  to 
be  tempted,  when  he  knew  that  he  could  not 
resist?  Then  if  I  am  ixnder  this  curse,  how 
am  I  to  get  free  ?  I  remember  a  text  which 
I  learned  at  Sunday-school, '  No  man  can  come 
to  me  except  the  Father  which  hath  sent  me 
draw  him.'  If  we  can  not  repent  until  we  are 
draAvn,  punishment  for  non-cnm]il lance  would 
seem  unjust.  There  are  some  other  singular 
paspr.ges  in  the  Bible  which  go  to  provt!  that 
the  Deity  is  partial,  '  blinding  the  eyes  '  and 
'  hardening  the  hearts '  of  some,  lest  they 
should  be  converted.  This  is  hard  to  believe  ;. 
it  may  be  orthodoxy,  but  it  is  not  humanity. 
Such  a  doctrine  is  opposed  to  the  better  feel- 
ings of  our  nature; ;  it  is  most  repulsive.  We 
fallible  creatures  readily  admit  that  there  are 
df'prees  of  guilt,  and  our  reason  and  common 
sense  lead  us  to  believe  that  there  ought  to 
be  degrees  of  punishment.  Our  refornu\tory 
laws  are  based  upon  such  a  principle  ;  but  to 
condemn  all  alike  may  be  divine  justice  ac 
cording  to  Scriptxire ;  it  is  certainly  not  con- 


truly  capable  of  jigging  as  to  what  is  right  or  '  sintcnt  with  human  jurisprudence." 
what  is  wrong.  j      Wiiile  speaking  thus,  Mary  Mannors  looked 

"  We  think  favorably  of  those  whom  we  be-    him  full  in  tlu^  face,  and  her  emotion  spread  a 
lieve  to  be   good   and  virtuous ;  we   may  hv    glow  over   her    beautiful   countenance.     Ho 
partial,  but  tli;^re  are  no   degrees  of  sin  in    ](aused  in  admiration  and  astonishment.     She 
tlm  sight  of  God  ;  all  alike  are  under  condeni- '  had  given  him  as])ecimen  of  precocious  reason 
nation.     And  until  a  man  becomes  regenerate,  \  ing  which  he  did  not  exjiect  ;  he  had  never 


and  freed  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  he  has 
no  right  to  expect  the  favor  of  God,  or  con- 
sider himself  any  thing  but  a  sinner  of  the 
deepest  dye." 

"Under  tiu>  curse  of  the  law!     Dreadful, 
dreadful!"   said   Mary,  with  an  arch  smilo: 


before  heard  a  perstm  of  her  agi-  express  sen- 
timents so  fearlessly,  <ir  with  such  a  feeling 
of  tliorough  indiftt'rence  to  orthodox  censure. 
His  inimtxliate  impulse  was  in  symymtliy  with 
her  o])inions,  but  that  impulse  was  but  mo- 
mentarv.     As  like  others  .nnxious  to  believe. 


"  wliy,  really,  1  think  religious  persons  must  Faith  was  ever  ready  to  whisptT,  "  Beware  of 
be  very  unhappy.  Just  to  think  of  having  to  {  reason,"  and  Faith  with  him  still  had  the 
believe  that  all  the  gcM)d,  kind  jieopli,"  avo  see    ascendency 


around  us  are  such  terrible  wretches  as  to 
deserve  such  condemnation  !  And  then  t-> 
believe  that  God,  who  is  said  to  ))e  so  loving 
and  merciful,  is  to  be  always  so  unfni'uriving 
and  vindictive  toward  creatures  which  he 
himself  is  said  to  have  created.  1  can  not 
believe  this.    You  umst  remember  that  it  was 


"  1  am  aware.  Miss  IMannors,"  said,  he  with 
pome  dilfidence,  "that  lliere  are  iia^^sagcs  in 
the  llible  hard  to  b(>  imderptootl  ;  Ini!  there  is 
enough  suiliciently  i»lain  toteach  us  our  duty. 
I  trust  you  will  some  day  view  tluse  nuitters 
as  1  TV)W  do.  We  know  by  experii  /ice  how 
dillicult  it  is  for  human  tribunals  to  decide 


EXETER   HALL. 


55 


i^esley  used  to 
nnorp. '  You 
Ma  and  Ilan- 
s  of  his  jjood- 
tinjr  journals, 
nclusion  than 
Sod  and  man. 
can  be  eonie. 

blcpsinortotlio 
'as  particular- 
rif^hteonsness, 
imonj;  the  re- 
B  Beiils  to  his 
heavenly  re- 

te,  he  Avas  all 

•    Well,  I  de- 

tlnnff  very  in- 

Rn  you  helievc 

person  fit  for 

ate  ;  and  that 

irn  afrain,'  Ave 

ust  all  perish 

laAV  ?      What 

le  for  the  sins 

iinit  Adam  to 

;  he  could  not 

lis  curse,  how 

p  a  text  Avhich 

man  can  come 

hath  sent  me 

nt  until  we  are 

ipllance  would 

>tlier  singular 

to  prove  that 

the  eyes  '  and 

me,  lest   they 

rdto  believe  ;. 

ot  humanity. 

e  bett(>r  fecl- 

iiulsive.     We 

hat  there  are 

and  common 

ere  ouf^ht  to 

reformatory 

iple ;  but  to 

ic  justice  ac 

inly  not  con 

e." 

mnoTS  looked 
tlon  spread  a 
(■nance.  He 
hment.  She 
pious  reason- 
«;  had  never 
express  sen- 
ch  a  feeling 
lox  c<'nsure. 
nymthy  with 
ivas  but  mo- 
to  berun'c, 
"  Beware  ol 
ill   had   tho 

laid,  he  with 
imssngcs  in 
Jlni!  tiiere  irf 
Ins  uiir  duty. 
Ifsi"  matters 
l'ri(  lice  liow 
Ih  to  decide 


the  claimb  ;)f  justice.  What  injustice  has  been 
done  where  justice  has  i)een  the  aim  I  We 
must  submit  entirely  to  the  claims  of  revela- 
tion. Without  the  Bible,  our  reason  would 
lead  us  far  astray,  and  tho  Avorld  would  bo 
sadly  bewildered." 

"  LTjion  my  word,"  said  Mary,  laughing', 
"without  desiring  to  s])eak  irreverently,  I 
tliink  the  Bible  has  sadly  b(>wildered  those 
who  pretend  to  expound  it.  If  there  are,  as 
you  say,  pat^sagc^s  in  that  book  hard  to  be  un- 
derstood, and  liable  to  produce  error  and  un- 
certainty, what  necessity  was  there  for  them  V 
They  could  not  have  been  written  for  our  in- 
struction or  cditication.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  while  we  ignore  reason  in  these 
matters,  we  sliut  out  the  only  light  we  have. 
I  fear  you  will  think  that  I  ]>resume  too 
much  ;  but  from  the  variety  of  opinions,  the 
number  of  creeds,  contradictions,  and  conflict- 
ing doctrines — all  said  to  be  derived  from  the 
same  inspired  source,  and  all  claiming  the 
same  infallibility,  those  who  are  determined 
to  stick  to  the  Bible  as  being  an  inspired 
book  must  ever  remain  in  a  Avilderness  of 
doubt  and  speculation." 

"  Why  such  passages  arc  included  in  the 
Bible  is  at  pr(?sunt  beyond  our  comprehen- 
sion ;  we  must  only  assume,"  said  Mr.  Capel, 
"  that  they  are  intended  for  some  good  pur- 
pose. It  would  l)e  folly  to  reject  all,  because 
a  portion  is  beyond  our  reason.  The  Bible,  as 
it  is,  is  the  only  revelation  from  fiod  to  man. 
In  it  w(!  have  sutficient  instruction,  and  if  we 
ore  governed  by  its  precepts,  we  need  not  fear 
the  designs  of  the  Evil  One,  avo  need  not  be 
afraid  to  die." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mary.  "I  can  not  under- 
stand these  things.  I  fear  no  evil  one  ;  and, 
when  mv  tiinc;  comes,  T  shall  not  be  afraid  to 
die.  But  apart  from  this,  if  you  say  that  un- 
til we  become  regenerated  Ave  must  consider 
ourselves  sinners  of  the  deepest  dye,  I  cannot 
agree*  with  yon.  Now,  do  you  think,"  said  she. 
Smiling,  and  giving  him  an  arch  look,  "do 
you  really  think  that  /am  such,  a  Avretched 
sinner,  and  that  I  dei<erA-e  such  terrible  punish- 
ment 'I  I  do  not  feel  tliat  I  am.  I  do  not  belioA^e 
that  I  am.  1  never  did  tlui  least  harm  to  any 
one  in  my  life  :  indeed,  I  would  much  rather  do 
a  kindness  than  an  injury.  And  to  say  that 
I  shoulil  be  obliged  to  consider  pa  and  Wil- 
liam, whom  I  love,  and  nuuiy  other  excellent 
persons  whom  I  know  and  regard,  as  vile  de- 
graded creatures,  full  of  all  kinds  of  sin  and 
mischief,  1  would  rather  be  vilified  and  de- 
Bpiseil  a.s  a  downv.ght  unbelieviT ;  as  far  as 
that  goe.s,  faiii  an  unbeliever.  I  would  not 
on  any  ain-ount  submit  to  such  a  doctrine.  I 
think  you  will  lind  it  dilRcult  to  do  so  your- 
self. It',  in  <u'(ler  to  be  u  good  Christian,  you 
must  believ(!  that  a  fe'W  of  »is,  cpuet,  unoffend- 
ing jM^ople  in  this  h<)us(',  are  as  bad  as  even 
Some  (»f  tli(^  ministers  we  I'cuid  of  in  tlu*  jiapers, 
Avhy  then,"  said  she,  smiling,  "avo  shall  never 
be  of  oni!  mind." 

"  That's  right.  Pop,  that's  right,"  said  Mr. 
Maiuiors,  who  now  entered  tin;  room,  carrying 
^Villiam  on  his  back.  "  I  have  overhi'ard  what 
you  have  just  said,  raid  if  Mr.  Capel  is  right, 
I  must,  like  Buuyau's  I'iljrrim,  j^ot  rid  of  this 


I  little  bundle  of  sin  ;"  and  lie  placed  William 
I  on  a  chair  near  his  sister.  "  You  see,  Mr. 
Capel,  when  I  am  away,  my  daughter  is  my 
representative,  and  if  you  tell  her  we  are 
all  such  bad  people,  then  yon  must  ex- 
pect to  get  some  hard  blows.  He  tries  to 
imagine  that  we  are  as  wicked  and  corrupt 
as  your  mamma  and  poor  Hannah  fancy  we 
are,  does  he  ?"  said  he,  addressing  Mary ; 
and  Avhile  he  stood  smiling  behind  her  chair 
he  began  to  smooth  doAvn  her  glossy  ringlets 
Avith  his  open  hands. 

"  Indeed,  Miss  Mannors  is  a  Aery  good  ex- 
ponent of  the  doctrine  of  self- righteousness," 
said  Mr.  Capel  pleasantly.  "  I  am  afraid  she 
is  under  the  impression  that  the  saints  are  a 
A'ery  exclusiA-e  set  of  beings.  I  trust,  however, 
that  before  long  she  will  be  better  acquainted 
Avith  their  sentiments." 

Mary  noAV  stood  by  the  piano,  and  again 
her  fingers  ran  o'er  the  keys  iu  a  careless 
manner ;  and  the  notes  that  she  aAvoke  came 
in  response  to  the  gentle  feelings  of  her  own 
bosom.  She  had  no  dread  of  future  misery  ; 
she  had  no  fear  of  a  Deity  aa'Iio  created  her  for 
purposes  of  A'engeance.  She  felt  no  condem- 
nation for  any  th'ng  she  had  done,  and  had 
it  been  in  her  power,  she  would  have  Avilling- 
ly  banished  care,  and  distress,  and  sorrow 
from  every  human  being.  She  Avas  not  pos- 
sessed of  one  truly  selfish  feeling,  and  had  no 
higher  ambition  than  to  try  and  make  the  lit- 
tle circle  in  Avhich  she  moved  radiant  Avith 
happiness.  What,  then,  had  she  to  fearV 
Ministers  of  the  Gospel  might  frighten  others 
about  the  "  wrath  of  an  offended  (lod,"  and 
about  the  "  death  that  never  dies,"  and 
about  flames  and  tortures,  and  the  horrors  de- 
picted by  Baxter,  Edwards,  and  Doddridge,* 
she  would  belieA'e  in  no  such  vengeance — of 
no  Avorse  fiends  than  some  of  those  in  human 
shape.  She  would  still  hope  and  trust  in 
the  great  Being  Avho  made  this  beautiful 
earth,  and  the  blue  skies  ;  Avho  smiled  iu  tho 
sunlight,  and  gave  fragrance  to  the  flower. 
She  would  trust  that  Being  Avho  had  giA'ea 
her  a  heart  to  feel,  and  Avho  had  given  to  her, 
and  to  them  she  lovtid,  faculties  for  enjoyment ; 
and  Avho,  above  all,  had  endowed  her  Avith 
reason  to  resist  teachings  which  would  por- 
tray the  Oniniixitent  PoAver  as  a  barbarous  di- 
vinity, influenced  by  malignant  passions — ca- 
liricious,  arbitrary,  tyrannical,  and  revenge- 
ful. 

Her  fingers  still  Avandered  over  the  ins-tru- 
ment,  bringing  out  snatches  of  faA'orite  airs  ; 
and  as  she  stood  Avith  her  head  turned  to  tho 
sunlight,  and  her  eyes  directed  toAvard  some 
dew-spangled  tloAver  iu  the  garden,  she  looked 
nuire  like  the  imjiersonation  of  true  AA'omanly 
dignity  and  Avorth  than  the  deluded  abbess 
immured  in  a  couA'ent ;  or  than  many  of  her 
Protestant  sisters  avIio  pay  a  silly  worship  to 
popular  priests,  and  who  niiglect  tlu>  duties  of 
home  to  go  on  a  round  of  collections  for  the 
purpose  of  erecting  churches,  circulating  tracts 
and  Bibles,  or  tV)r  providing  funds  and  an  out- 
fit for  Utopian  missi<maries  to  the  frantic  Feo 
jees  or  treacherous  Tongataboos. 

*See  Note  D. 


66 


EXETER    HALL. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


■'if  t, 


,,1,,;}*'*'*" 

•T    •[  ,     ,.  .. 


1 1  -Mi. 

■        ■.■:"!'llli, 

I     ■ 


t, 


■'I... 


Mks.  Mannoks  had  a  tiiuinph !  This  morn- 
ing, for  the  tiret  time  in  many,  years  they 
had  regular  family  devotion  ;  tV.c  domestic 
altar  had  again  V)e(!n  raised  in  the  good  old 
fashion.  A  chapter  was  read,  then  a  few 
words  by  way  of  explanation,  and  then  there 
was  j)rayer.  What  was  more  wonderful  to 
her,  Mr.  Mannors  had  actually  graced  that 
triumph  by  his  i)resi-nce.  lie  and  Mis3  Man- 
nors attended,  as  well  as  William  and  Han- 
nah. All  had  assembled  in  th(?  breakfast- 
room,  and  the  greatest  attention  was  paid 
while  Mr.  Capel  was  occupied  in  the  per- 
formance of  that  service.  Mrs.  Mannors 
was  in  the  best  of  spirits  ;  she  liad  brought 
this  thing  to  pass ;  she  felt  like  blessing 
the  I^ord  all  day  long  ;  and  during  break- 
fast, she  entertained  them  with  cheerful  con- 
versation about  preachers  and  brethren,  and 
about  pleasant  tea  meetings  in  contemi)lation. 
And  then  she  dwelt  in  anticipation  ujjou  the 
glorious  time  they  were  going  to  have  in  th  ,'ir 
grand  assauh  on  the  stronghold  of  Satan,  at 
the  protracted  or  revival  meeting  that  was 
Boon  to  take  place ;  many  stubborn  sinners 
were  to  be  subdued,  and  the  Lord  was  to  be 
mightily  magniiied  by  the  conquest.  Then 
she  told  them  about  the  busy  preparations 
that  were  making  for  the  gnnit  me«'ting  of 
the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  to  be 
held  in  Exeter  Hall  in  the  month  of  May ; 
and  about  the  ship  load  of  idols,  and  Indian 
chiefs,  and  converted  canniljals  that  were 
daily  expected  from  foreign  parts,  and  that 
were  to  be  openly  exhibited  at  a  subse(iuent 
missionary  meeting  —  genuine  Gospel  tri- 
umphs !  She  was  not  troubled  this  morning 
by  the  effects  of  any  particular  dream.  Wil- 
liam looked  much  better  ;  she  smiled  most 
benignantly  on  Mr.  (!apel,  and  altf«gi'ther  she 
was  in  a  most  satisfactory  state  and  very  hap- 

py.  ' 

There  were  (jthers  also  that  morning,  at 
Hamjjstead  who  to  a  certain,  extent  might  be 
said  to  be  in  the  enjoyment  of  as  full  a 
measure  of  contentment  as  Mrs.  Mannors. 
The  young  preacher  could  scarcely  fancy  that 
he  was  not  among  his  own  dearest  relatives. 
He  was  almost  persuaded  to  believ(!  that  Heath 
Cottage  had  once  been  his  honu?,  and  that  he 
had  now  returned  to  it  after  an  absence  of 
many  years.  He  became  communicative,  and 
spoke  about  Ireland,  and  gave  a  description  of 
the  unrivaled  natural  beauty  of  the  environs 
of  his  native  city.  He  related  anecdotes  of 
liis  younger  day.s,  and  then  revealed  a  little 
of  his  family  history.  He  told  theui  of  the 
death  of  his  motlu^r  ami  brother,  and  how 
lonely  the  world  ajjpeared  to  him  afterward, 
and  how  he  had  been  inducinl  to  enter  the 
ministry.  Whili!  he  mentioned  these  things, 
he  cviuld  not  help  perceiving  tliut  he  was 
Avinning  the  synijjathy  of  his  new  friends, 
and  when  he  told  them  of  his  last  visit  to  the 
old  clnirchyard,  where  his  pari'ats  and  his 
little  brother  rested,  and  how  he  ])lante,d  a 
rose-tree  at  each  grave,  and  how  wretched  he 
felt  when  he  had  to  leave  all  and  ijo  out  into 
tlu!  world  among  total  strangers,  he  saw  that 
besido  Mrs.  Maunors's  there  was  one  pair  of 


soft  eyes  almost  suffused  with  tears,  and  the 
solemnity  on  William's  i'ace  was  remarked  by 
his  mother  as  being  strangely  serious.  Even 
Mr.  Mannors  was  sensibly  aftected  by  the 
simple  recital,  and  he  sp(»ke  such  warm  words 
of  encouragement  as  to  nuike  Mr.  Capel  truly 
feel  that  he  vas  not  without  a  home  and 
friends. 

During  the  conversation  in  the  breakfast 
room,  Hannah  indulged  as  usual.  Her  voice 
from  the  kitchen  could  be  heard  singing 
lustily  oneof  Wesley's  hymns.  She,  too,  seem- 
ed to  bo  under  the  prevailing  inlluence  of  the 
time  ;  sb  3  was  in  the  sjurit,  and  although  a 
good-natured  laugh  of  mockery  from  Robert, 
who  was  working  in  the  garden,  could  also  be 
occasionally  heard,  Hannah  seemed  to  pay  no 
heed  to  the  interruption,  but  resolutely  con- 
tinued until  the  entire  hymn  was  finished. 

Mr.  Ca|)el  had  yet  a  week  to  remain  b(.'fore  he 
was  required  to  reconmience  his  itinerant  vis- 
itations on  the  circuit.  He  would  have  been 
much  better  pleased  had  it  been  a  fortnight ; 
he  was,  however,  determined  to  enjoy  in  the 
mean  time  all  the  happiness  he  could,  and  to 
make  his  stay  at  Hanqistead  agreeable  to  his 
new  friends.  He  intended  to  embrace  the  first 
opportunity  that  offered  in  opening  his  mind 
to  Mr.  Mannors  on  the  subject  of  religion,  and 
if  possible  try  and  wean  him  from  his  erroneous 
views.  He  felt  that  he  was  but  a  weak  iustcu- 
raent  to  effect  much  good.  He  knew  his  own 
inability  to  deal  with  a  person  of  such  mental 
calibre  as  Irs  hospitable  fricnid  ;  but,  fully 
trusting  for  i.  id  from  on  high,  he  would  under- 
take the  duty  in  all  humility,  conscious  that 
many  eyes  were  fixed  ujion  him,  and  that  if  ho 
succeeded  his  success  would  be  a  triumph  for 
the  (jiospel  that  might  make  scofl'ers  and  skep- 
tics pause  on  their  downward  road.  He  would 
do  his  best,  not  for  the  pur])ose  of  obtaining 
any  credit  for  himself,  but  f(w<he  further  illus- 
tration of  th(i  potency  of  the  Divine  Word.  Ho 
had  already  been  considering  some  of  the  ob- 
jections urged  by  h:s  friend,  and  lie  thought 
it  possible  to  meet  them  in  a  satisfactory  man- 
ner. He  had  no  faith  in  the  subleties  of  argu- 
ment or  controversy ;  Ik'  kn(!W  that  prayer 
and  faith  would  remove  every  mountain  of 
unbelief ;  the  result  he  would  leave  in  the  hand 
of  the  Lord. 

'J1io  opi)ortimity  sought  for  by  the  young 
])reacher  was  not  long  waiting.  ^Irs.  Mannors 
had  that  day  to  visit  Mrs.  Baker,  and  she 
wished  Mary  and  her  brother  to  accompany 
her  ;  the  visit  might  benefit  William.  An 
early  start  was  d(>sirable,  and  in  a  short  time 
Robert  drove  up  with  a  plain,  comfortable  vehi- 
cle. Mr.  Capel  assistecl  Miss  Maniu)rs  to  her 
])lace,  and  was  rewarded  by  one  of  her  sweetest 
smiles.  All  was  ready,  and  the  parting  be- 
tween Mr.  Mannors  and  his  wife  and  children 
was  as  affectionate  as  if  they.wei  ;  not  to  meet 
again  for  a  month  ;  and  when  the  carriage 
drove  away,  he  and  Mr.  Capel  stood  at  the 
gate,  and  looked  after  them  until  they  were 
entirely  out  of  sight. 

It  might  notbetliHiculttospeculate  upon  the. 
young  preacher's  thoughts  at  the  Uioment.  It 
nnght  not  be  hard  to  guess  who  it  was  that 
monopolized  the  most  prominent  plac;'  in  his 
imagination,  and  who  it  was  in  particular 


EXETER    HALL. 


57 


ears,  and  the 
r(>marked  by 
rioiis.  Even 
ctcd  by  tho 
warm  words 
.  Capel  truly 
L   liome   and 

lie  broakfafit 
.     Ilor  voic'o 
ard   singhi}^ 
le,  too,  srem- 
uenco  of  tlio 
althoujrh  a 
rom  Robert, 
[•oiild  also  b(! 
cd  to  pay  no 
«)lutoly  con- 
fiuiBhod. 
aiu  bofore  he 
tiiu'rant  vis- 
l  liavo  been 
a  fort  ni  gilt ; 
enjoy  iu  the 
'ould,  and  to 
oeablc  to  his 
race  the  first 
tiff  his  mind 
religion,  and 
lis  erroneous 
weak  iustcu- 
iiew  his  own 
such  mental 
;  but,  fully 
vould  under- 
mscious  that 
11(1  that  if  ho 
triumph  for 
rs  and  Kkei>- 
Ile  would 
obtcining 
ther  ilhiB- 
Word.    IIo 
of  the  ob- 
1  thought 
iictory  man- 
es of  argu- 
lat   ]irayer 
untain  of 
in  the  hand 

Hie  young 
.  ISIiuinors 
,  and  she 
accompany 
liam.  An 
short  time 
table  velii- 
lors  to  her 
r  sweetest 
carting  be- 
d  children 
lot  to  meet 
carriage 
)0(i  at  tho 
they  were 

(^  upon  the 
•iiK-nt.  It 
was  that 
Uic'  in  hJB 
liarticular 


urt 


that  he  missed  Avhon  tho  sound  of  the  wheels 
died  away  in  the  distance,  and  when  the  liglit 
clouds  of  ihi^t  that  rose  up  behind  them  grew 
thicker  and  thicker.  Although  the  sunlight 
was  as  briglit  as  ever,  yet  already  there  was 
Boniething  shadowy  in  the  appearance  ot  Heath 
Cottage, — there  was  a  want  of  life  about  the 
place; :  even  now,  he  really  thought  that  the 
flowers  were  drooping  their  delicate  heads,  as 
if  their  queen  had  taken  tiight ;  that  the  little 
fountain  had  alnmst  ceased  to  play,  as  if  its 
gushing  jets  could  only  leave  mere  bubbles 
upon  the  surface  of  tiie  limpid  water;  and 
that  the  yellow  birds  which  looked  up  so  often 
from  their  handsome  prisons  to  the  blue  sky 
wen;  more  silent,  just  merc^ly  giving  an  occa- 
sional note,  as  if  to  let  you  know  that  they 
were  yet  alive.  In  spite  of  uU  he  could  do,  a 
feeling  of  loneliness  crept  over  him,  and  he 
■was  not  much  enlivened  when  Mr.  Mannors 
said,  in  a  kind  of  regretful  mood,  "  There  goes 
all  my  earthly  treasure." 

As  they  walkcvd  toward  the  house,  Mr.  Capel 
remarked,  how  iiappy  they  must  be  who  had 
not  their  entire  treasure  upon  earth,  but  who 
had  their  chief  store  laid  up,  where  neither 
moth  nor  rust  could  corrupt  nor  thief  break 
through  to  irtcal.  What  a  privilege  those  en- 
joy(;d  who  could  give  up  all,  and  forget  all,  for 
heaven.  "  Sujipose,"  continued  he,  "  that  you 
fihottid  lose  that  treasure  wliicii  you  have  rea- 
son to  prize  so  highly,  what  consolation  would 
you  have  lt;fr,  V 

"  None,  that  I  know  of.  but  my  tears — nature's 
own  soothing.  I  would  have  to  bear  the  afllic- 
tioii  as  best  1  could  ;  we  know  by  experience 
that  such  losses  are  among  the  contingencies 
of  life,  and  are  sure  to  follow  in  the  course  of 
human  (jvents.  I  envy  no  one  the  selfish  privi- 
lege of  forirutfulness.  To  be  in  huch  a  place 
as  heaven  itself  cmild  not  induce  me  to  forget 
those  I  love — may  1  never  be  so  selfish  !  My 
treasur(>s  are,  liowever,upon  this  earth,whlch  is 
now  my  heaven  ;  and  should  I  be  so  unfortunate 
as  to  lose  ihem,  I  shall,  no  doubt,  be  delighted 
if  I  can  again  meet  them  in  any  happiei  place, 
or  in  some  future  state  of  existence." 

The  young  i)reaclier  then  endeavored  to 
assurt;  him  of  the  certainty  of  such  a  me(;ting  ; 
it  was  that  certainty  which  sustained  the  pious 
in  afUictioiis  or  bereavement ;  and  he  then  quot- 
ed several  passag(;s  of  [^crii)ture  in  support  of 
his  assertions.  Mr.  Mannors,  however,  stattxl 
his  regret  that  such  ])assages  were  not  sufficient 
to  assure  him,  having  had  good  reasons  to 
question  tlKTir  autlituiticity ;  and  as  doubts 
were  thrown  on  leading  texts  which  Mr.  Capel 
endeavored  to  explain,  Mr.  Mannors  suggest- 
ed tiiat  they  should  retire  to  his  study  where 
Iw  had  some  hooks  bearing  on  the  question, 
and  wliere  tliey  would  be  able  to  converse 
■without  interrupt  ion. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Mannors,  when  they  were 
quietly  seated,  "you  and  I  are,  I  think,  differ- 
ent from  most  persons  who  meet  for  discus- 
sion. We  av(i  about  to  ajiproach  the  matter  in 
a  proper  spirit,  not  like  so  many  others  who 
wage  a  war  of  words  for  tlu;  mere  sake  of  a 
victory,  We  meet  hero  for  the  more  noble 
purpo.se  of  endeavoring  to  ascertain  what  is 
truth.  Could  I  believe  that  you -were  deter- 
mined to  resist  conviction  and  stick  to  cherish- 


ed dogmas,  ■whether  right  or  wrong,  I  would 
not  sit  here  a  moment  longer.  We  know  that 
the  pursuit  of  truth  is  attended  with  much 
difficulty,  and  that  the  sincere  inquirer  is  often 
denounced  as  the  enemy  of  his  race.  History 
has  abundant  proof  that  the  high  priests,  and 
those  in  high  station  whom  they  could  in- 
fluence, have  been  ever  ready  to  defame  and 
persecute  those  who  have  refused  to  bow  down 
and  worship  a  popular  error;  or  who  have 
dared  to  brush  away  the  antiquated  excrescen- 
ces which  have  impeded  human  progress.  It 
has  been  truly  said  that  '  reformers,  in  all  ages, 
whatever  their  object,  have  been  unpitiod  mar- 
tyrs, and  tho'multitutle  have  evinced  a  savage 
exultation  in  their  sacrifice.  Let  in  light  upon 
a  nest  of  young  owls,  and  they  will  cry  out 
against  the  injury  yim  have  done  them.  Men 
of  mediocrity  a*".;  young  owls  ;  and  when  you 
present  them  with  strong,  brilliant  ideas,  they 
exclaim  against  the^n  as  false,  dangerous,  and 
deserving  punishmem  ; '  *  and  another  writerf 
says,  '  An  original  thinker,  a  reformer  in  moral 
science,  will  thus  often  appear  a  hard  and  insen- 
sible character.  He  goes  beyond  the  feelings 
and  associations  of  tho  age  ;  he  leaves  them  be- 
hind him  ;  he  shocks  our  old  prtyudices  ;  it  is 
reserved  for  a  subsequent  generation,  to  whom 
his  views  havtj  been  unfolded  from  infancy, 
and  in  whose  minds  all  the  interesting  associa^ 
tions  have  collected  round  them,  wdiich  for- 
merly encircled  the  exploded  opinions,  to  regard 
his  discoveries  with  unmingled  pleasure.'  No 
man  'should  be  afraid  of  doubt  ;  it  has  been 
called  the  '  beginning  of  philosophy,'  and  '  the 
accusing  attorney  iu  the  court  of  truth.'  No 
true  man  should  hesitate  to  grapple  with  false- 
hood ;  for  from  the  midst  of  the  dust  and  con- 
fusion of  the  struggle,  truth  is  sure  to  as- 
cend more  brilliant  and  triumphant.  Any 
sj'stem,  theory,  or  principle,  no  matter  how 
anticiuated  or  popular,  that  dreads  or  forbids 
investigation,  bears  witness  to  its  own  fraud, 
and  is  already  stamped  with  its  own  condem- 
nation. Grote  says,  '  To  ask  for  nothing  but 
results,  to  decline  the  labor  of  verification,  to 
be  satisfied  with  a  stock  of  ready-made  argu- 
ments as  proof,  and  to  decry  tho  doubter  or 
nc^gative  r"asoner  who  starts  new  difficulties, 
as  a  common  enemy — this  is  a  proceeding  suf- 
ficiently common  in  ancient  as  well  as  in 
modern  times.  But  it  is  nevertheless  an  abne- 
gation of  the  dignity  and  even  of  the  functions 
of  speculative  philosophy.'  We  have  tlum- 
saiids  around  us  at  the  present  day  who  dread 
this  '  lal)or  of  verification ' — mental  drones, 
who  swallow  a  creed  as  they  would  a  pill ;  who 
are  far  behind  the  agi;,  and  who  strut  about 
like  resuscitated  mummies  bearing  their  worm- 
eaten  coffins  on  their  backs  as  fancied  emblems 
of  distinction  :  and  who  arc;  ever  ready  to  erect 
a  warning  jiillar  of  hieroglyphics  in' the  way 
of  every  sci(;ntific,  social,  or  moral  improve- 
ment. These  are  they  who,  with  haughty  as- 
sumjition,  d«!nounce  the  living,  thinking  men 
of  the  present  tlay,  who  spurn  their  rotten 
bandages,  and  refuse  to  have  their  free  limbs 
swathed  in  the  musty  conservatism  of  an  an- 
cient puerility.  But  the  noble,  liberal  minds 
of  all  ages  have  been  the  unflinching  advo- 

•  Adventures  of  a  Younger  Son.     t  S.  Bailey. 


68 


EXETER    HALL. 


11 

*«(Jir 

M 

«i4i : 

M 

M 

.'III 

|.l,.i. 

'"*..(,, 


:ii:i 


'iiiiiiiii""- 
'■  ■■'"'■I.., 


catcs  of  free  inquiry,  cvon  should  the  inves- 
tigation lead  to  the  ahandoninent  of  ideas  long 
and  tenderly  cherished.  Ijocke  says,  '  Those 
who  have  not  thorouf^hly  examined  to  the 
bottom  their  own  tenets  must  confess  they  are 
unfit  to  prescribe  to  others,  and  are  unrea- 
sonable ill  imposinj;^  that  as  truth  on  other 
men's  belief  which  they  themselves  have  not 
searched  into,  nor  weighed  the  arj^uments  of 
probability  on  which  they  should  receive  or 
rei(u-t  it.'  '  A  mistake  is  not  the  less  so,  and 
will  never  grow  into  a  truth,  because  we  have 
believed  it  for  a  long  time,  though  perhaps  it  be 
the  harder  to  part  with  ;  and  an  taror  is  not  tlu* 
less  dangerous,  nor  the  less  contrary  to  truth 
because  it  is  cried  up  and  had  in  veneration 
by  any  party.' 

"  Investigation  should  be  commenced  and 
continued  withoitt  any  dread  as  to  its  i<.'S>r]ts  : 
a  proposition  which  requires  tender  handling 
is  possessed  of  some  inherent  rottenness. 
Harriet  Mnrtineau  observes  that  '  No  in- 
quirer can  fix  a  dir(!ct  and  clear-sighted  gaze 
toward  truth  who  is  casting  side  glances  all 
the  while  (m  the  prospects  of  his  soul.' 

"  When  Galileo  asserted  the  truth  of  the 
Copernican  tystem,  he  was  scoftt^d  at  and 
persecnted  by  the  Haunting  arrogance  of  old 
ideas ;  and  when  he  offered  to  give  some  of 
the  wise  ones  of  his  day  actual,  positive  proofs 
of  the  truth  of  his  recent  discoveries,  he  wa*> 
not  only  denounced  as  a  heretic,  but  actually 
imprisoned,  for  presuming  to  think  bey<ind 
others.  The  ecclesiastical  mummies  of  that 
period,  like  those  of  the  present,  declined  the 
labor  of  verification,  preferring  to  hng  an 
antiquated  error  rathcir  than  permit  the  radi- 
ance of  truth  to  expose  their  ignorance.  Writ- 
ing to  his  friend  Kepler  on  this  subject,  he 
good-himioredly  said : 

"  '  O  my  dear  Kepler!  how  I  wish  we  could 
have  a  hearty  laugh  together.  Hen*  at  Padua 
is  the  principal  professor  of  philosojdiy,  whoiii 
I  have  reiieatedly  and  urgently  requesti^d  to 
look  at  tiie  moon  and  ])lanets  through  my 
glass,  which  Ik;  jjcrtinaciously  refuses  to  do. 
Why  arc  you  not  hereV  VVhat  shouts  of 
laughter  we  should  have  at  this  glorious 
folly.'* 

"  This  is  a  fair  illustration  of  blind,  obstinate 
prejudice  ;  and  that  such  prejudice  still  exists 
is  glaringly  manifest  on  (!very  side.  We  have 
now  a  multitude  of  yK-rsons  loud  in  their 
laudations  of  truth.  Yet  if  you  dare  to  doubt 
thfir  idea  of  that  ])rinci[)le  ;  if  you  venture  in 
all  humility  to  hint  tlu;  possibility  of  their 
being  in  error;   if  vou  should  benovolentlv 


*  Luther,  the  lioro  of  tlio  rjcforiiiiition,  in  tlio  fiill- 
ncps  of  liis  iiriostly  presmii])ti()ii,  wiih  as  ready  to 
rail  nt  the  d'scoveries  of  seieiititle  iiieii  aw  wen;  Konie 
of  his  late  votifreren  of  the  Ifomish  C'hun'li,  In  con- 
deniiiation  of'lhi'  Coiii'i-iiicau  si'Mteui  of  astronomy,  he 
thus  commits  liimself : 

"I  am  now  advined  that  a  now  astroUjsror  in  risen, 
viio  |)ivs(mieth  to  prove  tliat  tlie  earili  moveili  anil 
goetli  about,  not  tlie  lirnuiment ;  tlu!  sun  and  moon, 
not  the  hiars— like  as  wlien  (uu^  sitteth  in  a  ccai'li,  or 
in  a  Fliip  that  is  moved.  thinUeth  lui  sllleth  i-till  aiul 
resleili.  hut  llu!  earth  and  trees  do  move  and  run 
IheniK'lves.  Thus  it  j^oetli ;  we  uive  up  ourselves  to 
t)nr(i\\n  foolish  fancies  and  conceits.  This  f.)ol  (Co- 
pernicus) will  tarn  the  whole  art  of  astronomy  ujiside 
down;  hut  tlm  Ncrii)tiu-e.  showeth  and  teacliiMli  ano- 
ther lesson,  when  .loshua  conuuandelh  the  buu  to 
stand  Btill,  and  not  the  earth," 


cast  the  most  simple  lamp-light  across  their 
l)ath,  in  order  to  reveal,  even  to  tin*  least  ex- 
tent, the  mud  and  mire  through  which  they 
proudly  and  resolutely  ]>lunge — eager  to  fol- 
low in  the  slushy  track  of  venerated  pre- 
decessors— then  you  are  an  innovator,  a  dis- 
turber, an  infidel,  and  a  wretch. 

"  Daily  <'X])erience  goes  to  ])rove  that  suchia 
the  treatment  which  many  of  our  most  emi- 
nent benefactors  have  n^ci-ived  from  monopo- 
li/ir  g  blind  guides,  who  persistently  obtrude 
themselves  as  teachers  of  truth,  and  who  as 
persistently  stand  in  tlu;  way  of  ])rogress. 
Even  scientific  Christian  men  have  had  to 
acknowledge  that  su"h  is  the  case.  Agassiz 
says,  '  There  are  fmv  of  the  great  truths  now 
recognized  which  have  not  been  treated  as 
chimerical  and  blasphemous  before  they  were 
demonstrated.'  Yet,  after  all  this,  the  ana- 
thema is  hurled  at  reform,  and  where  ])rie8ts 
can  not  persecute  with  tin;  rack,  as  of  old,  they 
resort  to  social  degradation." 

"  You  can  not  deny,"  said  Mr.  Capel,  "  that 
many  of  our  greatest  reformers  were  sincere 
Christians.  >.'ewton.  aiul  Bacon,  and  others 
whom  I  might  mention,  gave  eniim-nt  proofs 
of  their  ability  and  desin^  to  enlighten  man- 
kind ;  thiy  were  not  afraid  of  advanced  opin- 
ions." 

"  They  were  not ;  but  Lord  Bacrm's  ortho- 
doxy was,  however,  very  (juestionable,  »nd 
he  was  looked  upon  by  many  with  distrust. 
Newton's  great  discovery  of  gravitation,  and 
other  discoveries  of  his,  were  strongly  op- 
I'osed,  and  were  not  fully  understood  by  learn- 
ed Christian  men  for  more  than  fifty  years 
after  their  announcement.  These  cases,  how- 
ever; do  not  aflfect  the  general  correctness  of 
what  I  have  stated  in  relation  to  nuui  who 
hav(!  departed  from  the  beaten  track  of  old 
opinions.  We  know  that  lV(>e  iniiuiry  has 
beeii  ])roscribed  from  time  to  tinu;,  and  wo 
still  see  the  jiecessity  for  perseverance.  No 
matter  how  some  may  rage,  or  how  l)a.se  may 
be  their  detraction,  let  him  who  is  on  the  side 
of  truth  b(^  fearless,  and  he  is  sure  to  triumph. 
My  object,  so  far,  is  to  show  the  lu^eessity  for 
investigation  ;  and  beiore  I  quit  this  prelimin- 
ary, 1  will  read  you  an  extract  bearing  on  the 
subject. 

"  Samuel  Bailey,  in  his  jF.s.w// «?;  the  Pursuit 
of  Tri/t/i,  fniyn:  "rhe  great  interests  of  the 
human  race,  then,  denuind  that  the  way  of  dis- 
covery should  \ni  open,  that  there  should  be 
no  ol)struction  to  iiKpiiry,  that  every  possible 
facility  and  encouragement  should  be  afforded 
to  eff'orts  addressed  to  the  detection  of  error 
and  to  t!i(!  attainment  of  truth  ;  nay,  that 
(!very  human  being,  as  fur  as  Ik;  is  ea])able, 
should  actively  assist  in  tlu;  ])ur8uit ;  and  yet 
one  of  its  greatest  discouragi'mentsat  jiresent 
existing  among  niankiiul  is  tlu!  state  of  their 
own  moral  sentiments.  Although  he  who 
has  achieved  tlie  discovery  of  a  truth  in  a 
matter  of  iin])ortaiu'e,  or  rescued  an  iidmitted 
truth  from  iiisigaificance  and  neglect,  may 
justly  indulge  the  rellection  that  he  has  con- 
ferred a  beiielit  on  his  fellow-meii,  t  ,  which 
even  time  itself  can  preseril)e  no  limits,  he 
will  do  well  to  jirepare  i'nr  the  o'lium  and 
])ersecut'oii  with  wliich  tli(i  l)enelit  will  bo 
resisted,  and  console  himself  with  a  lyrospec- 


ti 

ot 

fa 

d( 

ki 

tic 

ac 

m 

wl 

th 


EXETER    HALL. 


60 


ftcro&a  their 
110  loast  ex- 
wliich  tliey 
afT'T  to  I'ol- 
leratcd  pre- 
vutor,  a  die- 

tliat  suchis 
r  most  emi- 
im  monopo- 
itly  obtrude 
and  who  as 
)f  ])roj?ress. 
lave  had  to 
Ko.  Agassiz 
i  truths  now 
1  treated  as 
re  they  were 
lis,  the  ana- 
here  priests 
5  oi  ohl,  they 

Capel,  "that 
were  sincere 
,  and  others 
inent  proofs 
i<)htcn  man- 
raucc'd  opin- 

iicon's  ortho- 

ionalihi,  *nd 

I'ith  distrust. 

vitation,  and 

Ktrongly  op- 

ood  l)y  learn- 

1   titty  years 

V  cases,  how- 

rectness  of 

o  iiuMi  wlio 

iraclc  of  oUl 

in(|uiry  has 

nu!.  and  we 

ranee.      No 

w  base  may 

on  tlieeido 

to  triumph. 

H'ce.-isity  for 

is  preliriiin- 

riuir  ontlie 


tive  reliance  on  the  gratitude  and  sympathy 
of  a  future  age.  It  is  impossible  to  deny  the 
fact,  that  in  some  of  the  most  important 
depurtinents  of  knowledge,  the  bulk  of  man- 
kiiui  regard  nrtvelties  of  doctrine — a  descrip- 
tion under  which  all  detections  of  error  and 
acquisitions  of  truth  must  come — as  acts  of 
moral  tur[)itude  or  reprehensible  arrogance, 
whicli  th(?y  ar<i  ready  to  resent  on  the  head  of 
the  itroniulgator.'  " 

"1  regret,"  said  Mr.  Capel,  "to  bo  obliged 
to  admit  the  full  force  of  what  you  have  just 
read.  I'rom  my  own  limited  experience,  too 
many  of  our  Christian  teachers  are  ready  to 
decry  doubt  and  turbid  inipiiry.  I  fear  no 
investigation  ;  let  truth  and  falseho  id  grap- 
ple. I  am  willing  to  submit  Chrif.tianity  to 
its  severest,  test.  I  have  had  my  doubts  on 
many  points,  and  some  of  the  most  thought- 
ful are  troubled  this  way.  I  have  been  told 
that  doubts  were  but  temptations  ;  they  may 
be,  but  they  generally  tempt  me  to  seek  for 
an  explanation.  I  liavo  often  said  that  there 
are  many  things  in  the  Scriptures  hard  to  be 
tm:ierst(K)d  ;  but  on  the  whole,  I  still  accept 
them,  as  containing  more  truth  than  I  can 
find  anywhere  else.  I  have  full  reliance  on 
t'aeir  authenticrty,  and  do  niit  fear  to  h(!ar  all 
that  can  be  said  against  what  the  Christian 
world  has  accepted  as  Divine  Revelation." 
■  "  This,  then,  is  an  honest  conclusion,"  replied 
Mr.  Mannors.  "  If  mi;n  are  hereafter  to  be 
punished  for  the  rejection  of  that  revelation, 
the  sul)ject  becomes  more  momentous,  and  they 
should  endeavor  by  all  means  to  ascertain 
whether  the  Bible  contains  that  pure  truth 
whicli  is  claimed  for  it.  No  just  Being  can  be 
oflfiMided  if  we  submit  the  Scriptures  to  such 
fair  tests  as  reason  and  common  sense  may 
suggest. 

"  Now,  to  proceofl,  we  find  that  the  earliest 
reconU  concerning  the  human  family  load  us 
to  believe  that  men  in  almost  every  agi;  and 
climo  have  inclined  to  some  form  of  rtMgion, 
and  have  worshiped  some  particular  idid  or 
divinity,  or  a  number  of  such,  peculiar  to 
their  own  race  or  nation. 

"  There  are,  it  is  said,  a  few  very  degraded 
tribes  who  have  no  con  option  of  supernatural 
beings,  and  who  do  not,  therefore,  practic;  any 
form  of  worship  ;  but,  as  a  general  fact,  it 
may  be  a("cepted  that  religion  has  been  a 
prevailing  idea  amongst  mankind. 

"  It  is  not  necessary  to  our  purpose  to  try  and 
trace  the  origin  of  the  religious  idea  ;  it  is 
merely  suflicient  testate,  that  the  most  ancient 
religious  ceremonies  are  said  to  have  been  first 
practiced  in  Egypt ;  and  frimi  thence  the  whole 
world  has  b(!cimio  indoctrinated  with  forms 
and  ceremonies  almost  innumerable. 

"Hi'ligion  has  been  always  surrounded  with 
mysteries  :  and,  for  the  purpose  of  dissimiinat- 
ing  its  principles,  the  order  of  priests  was  in- 
stituted.*    They  have   generally  assumed   to 

'*Tliii  iiiUUor  (if  tlio  Ot'Uic  Druids,  a  loarnod  work 
.pnl>li'<lic;l  in  I,on(lo;i.  siiys  :  "Of  all  tlio  evils  that  cs- 
oapi'l  IVdiu  l'ai)ilora'Hln)x.tli(!instUiiti(»ii  of  prio.sihoods 
was  tiu!  woi'st.  I'rU'SIs  iiiivii  IwuMi  tlio  ciu'.so  of  tlu) 
Worl.l.  \ud  if  \\M  admit  tlic  merits  of  many  of  those 
^t  our  o\\  n  time  to  be  as  preeiuhumt  aliove  all  oiliers 
M  tile  ftprif  lie  rvi/'/w  of  the  most  sidf-eoiitented  iii- 
ilvidual  of  tlie  order  inay  iiieite  liiin  to  considiu'  them, 
ffieia  aa  I  uiu  willing  toiillow  the  murits  ol'individuuli) 


have  been  possessed  of  superior  information, 
and  to  he  able  to  regulate  the  intercourse  be- 
tween man  and  his  Deity.  Religious  teachers,  as 
a  class,  are  mostly  men  who  have  ever  been  sup- 
ported in  luxury  and  power,  and  whose  interest 
it  is  to  persuade  others  that  they  alone  are  ca- 
])able  of  giving  or  imparting  religious  informa- 
tion. An  able  writer*  on  this  subject  says : 
'  There  were  such  bodies  of  professional  priests 
in  ancient  Egypt,  in  Babylon,  in  Persia,  in  Gaul, 
in  Phoenicia,  in  Judea,  in  Etruria,  and  in  Greece. 
There  are  such  priests  now  in  Japan,  in  Hin- 
dostan,  in  Thibet,  in  Ara'ia,  in  Rus.-.ia,  iu 
France,  in  England,  and  in  Utah,  and  among 
many  other  civilized  and  barbarous  nations. 
The  several  classes  of  prii^sts  of  no  two  of  the 
lands  specially  mentioned  taught  or  teach  the 
same  creed.  There  have  beim  at  least  two 
hundred  ditFerent  ndigious  creeds  taught,  and 
extensively  received  among  men,  ditferent 
from,  and  inconsistent  with  each  otiier.'  And 
he  further  says  :  '  History  tells  us  that,  in  an- 
cient times,  the  people  were  very  ignorant  and 
superstitious,  and  easily  imposoil  upon,  and  the 
priests  were  numerous,  and  so  infiuential  that 
they  could  induce  the  people  to  believe  or  do 
almost  any  thing.  It  was  the  common  belief 
among  the  political  rulers,  that  government 
could  not  bo  firmly  established,  or  morality 
presi;rv(!d  without  the  aid  of  superstition,  the 
t(^rror  of  the  gods,  and  an  implicit  faith  that 
the  laws  were  of  divine  origin  ;  and  this  belief 
frequently  governed  their  action.  Numa.Lycur- 
gus,  Zaleucus,  Pythagoras,  and  scores  of  other 
lawgivers  asserted  that  their  codes  were  com- 
municated to  them  by  the  gods.  Diodorus  Sicu- 
lus  tells  us  that  the  purpose  of  these  claims  to 
divine  origin  for  human  laws  was  to  insure  the 
supremacy  and  jiermanence  of  constitutions 
which  would  have  been  much  less  secure  with- 
out the  mighty  protectitm  of  superstition. 
The  laws  of  Egypt,  Hindostan,  Pej-i^ia,  and 
Babylon  were  all  ostensibly  dictated  or  writ- 
ten word  for  word  in  heaven.' 

"  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  priests  and 
propagators  of  almost  every  religicm  claim  for 
their  own  particular  belief  a  divine  revelation. 
The  Egyptians  asserted  that  their  mysterious 
rites  had  this  authority.  And,  at  the  present 
day.so  do  the  Brahmins,  and  the  Buddhists,  and 
the  Jews,  and  the  Christians,  and  the  Moham- 
medans, and  the  Mormons — this  is  the  latest 
revelation,  one  of  our  own  times — and  all  who 
can  boast  of  a  written  creed  claim  that  their 
books  are  inspired,  whicli  to  doubt  would  be 
to  imptu-il  salvation. 

"Creeds,  then,  have  been  established,  and  hu- 
man beings  are  found  in  every  country  pro- 
fessing some  particular  form  of  faith,  and  cer- 
tain ])arts  of  the  eartli  are  almost  entirely  gov- 
erned and  iutiuenced  by  peculiar  religious  prin- 

to  ho,  T  will  not  allow  that  tlioy  form  exceptions  strong 
onoiiiih  to  destroy  the  ijeneral  nature  of  the  rule, 
Loolv  at  China;  lit  the  festival  of  Ju'rij;ernaut ;  tlio 
Crusades;  the  massacres  of  St.  ISartholomew  ;  of  the 
Mexicans  and  the  Peruvians  ;  the  tiriis  of  tlie  Inquisi- 
tion; of  Alary,  Cranmer,  Calvin,  and  of  the  Druids! 
lAiok  at  Ireland  :  look  at  Spain  ;  in  short,  look  every- 
where, and  everywhere  yon  will  «eo  the  priests  reukiiij? 
witli  ^'ore.  'J'hey  liave  conveited  populous  and  hajipy 
nations  into  deserts;  and  have  transformed  onr  heau- 
tifnl  world  into  a  slau.i^htor-liouse,  drenched  with  blood 
and  tears." 
*  Hittel. 


,,;j'* 


¥i 


EXETEE    HALL 


t!.#^'' 


dpl*«.  l^i".  h.  Trmn  rm:  name  Li«  r^-iigiaa,  au/j 
voa  can  V:li  -wL^cb^rr  Ju*r  it  fan  h.^in.w:  cr  id 
E.aT'j^h.u  .  ir5i  kJiL  n&iitr  Lie  c-'junirr.  jind  jou 

fjon  of  Iti;  u  ii*r  belon^ffe.  C-maia  Jvoi«i-  lavf .j- 
tne  prr-u'.tior  of  &  '.-A-rjiin  Iruit  .  uii  ptJ- 
ticuiur  pan*  •_<?  liit  fcanii  L.av*-  *ibrh  h  jitr- 
tic-uar  '.Tr5r>l  In  oam  qahn/er  -f  lij'r  iir.-.r". ;.  lii'r 
vorf-ii.;p  of  BmiiiiiA  or  Baddtui  mij  j-rerjuJ  : 
in  aD'xb'..'.  t:ijii  of  Caoiiadas  or  ♦lirist  ;  in 
an'.TLH:-!.  tba:  of  Monricaj  or  Moiitmaea.  Tht 
faa  L*.,  ixi'><t  m-rii  ffet  tLeir  '.t-j^*!^  in  tlieir 
crii'Iif-  :  bv  fearlr  incuJcirti^n.  men  fcre  Vj  r>*- 
fotm'i  in  tii«;  dearaiing  urorj.kip'  tf  idol*  and 
anJUiiil-'.  of  mountajnt  and  rJver?.  of  gunliirbt 


and 


aar£U'*s.   and   of  imag'iiiarr   dei:;*-«. 


b^-flfvoir;iii  or  oibervrise,  corr'rsjrjnaini;  wi:b 
tin;  mora]  }>T^^pi;ons  of  ineir  ■woi^-Lipc-ra. 
Tbe  ^ioi  of  '^"r  nati.'Q  inav  l>r  kind  and  betjt- 
vol»fn:.  wbile  tLe  *jf>i  of  ano;n*-r  u-aj  ije  de- 
picted afe  inSueDC*?d  bv  un{roT.;.-mable  pas- 
siong — fi*;rcrr.  fiXb/.tlii^.  caprioox-.  and  revena-e- 
f  uj-  To  tis^  lb*-  woroo  of  rkbiiier,  ■  Man  , 
j/ain*i?  birn^^lf  Ju  Lie  isoif-.'  j 

•■  ii-  reafter.  tb'.n,  we  r-baU  consider  irLin  I 
tli«r  inSu^fUC^  of  r-rJij^ion  La«  l»f-_^n  to  Ei-aLklnd.  ■ 
bai  for  ibfe  pn-s'riit,  I  pJiall  mertlv  state  tuax 
Lurnan  Ijeii^*,  In  ajuj'.»i»T  every  jian  of  tbe 
habitable  j^lvi^.  nave  gabmitt^  to  a?  cv'Etrol. 
A'x-/jriin;^  t'j  au  estiiuiite  niad>r  in  the  ytniT 
1''.44,  tbenainh>er  of  foljow^-rs  of  tbe  T>r:Dfri[jai 
rrvAr  wer-- ;  BiiddbiKt?.  ^i^OZ/XJ.i.KX)' :  CLrJs- 
tJim--.  i.j').(j(/i.W)  :  Moharnna'vians.  l<y».Oi>;».- 
0'^);  BrabmiL.s.  l.yj.(Kl0.f//J ;  Pairans.  TO.OrX".- 
O/J ;  J-w>,  10.000/XHj :  in  all,  l.(W0.<X>iJ.OO0.      j 

'■  Tbe  cre':r'i  or  l>rlief  witb  wbJcii  we  Lave 
now  to  do."  continued  Mr.  Mannors.  "L*  tbe 
cT'-zA  f;f  rbriiftendoin.  known  ao  Cbrlf?tlanitv. 
Tlie  aiuereiits  of  tbis  faiib  tell  u--  tbat  tbe.r 
reliifjon  i.«  dtriviA  from  a  i>X'k  cali'id  tbe 
'  Bibi',-.'  and  tkist  t]J.s  l^^ok  !••  a  divine  re%-ela-  ; 
tion,  written  mar-y  fx-ntuxifS  a^'o,  Vjv  inspired 
men.  and  contains  in  itself  tbe  eisScnce  of  di- . 
v;ne  tr  j'b. 

"  It  tbereffre  appear^  tbat  wLat  the  ,%/tj<ffr 
iis  Vj  the  Braliinin,  or  tiie  Kura/t   to  tbe  Mo- 
liarnmedan,    tbe    BilA^  is   to  tbe  Cbristian. 
yow,  if  tlje  Bible  ih  truly  a  revelation  from  ■ 
G'/i,  for  tbe  instruction,  e-dlfication,  and  re 
foriiiation  cf  man.  tbere  c^n  V;  no  jy^riible 
imiifjpriety   in  a  critical  examination  of  its 
c^jntent.'j.     Tlxis  was  tbe  view  taken  by  many  ,' 
eminent  men,  wbo  from  tbe  earliest  times —  _ 
c-ntury  afi>-r    c»-niury — ijad   submitted    tl^e  , 
Bcri|.'tural  b'x^ks  to  a  fj^r-ful    investig'ation  ; 
and  not  wjtljstandinyr  t]je  claims  to  insjjJration 
r.ianhi  for  tbe  Bible  by  its  tbeolo^ians.  it  ]jas 
been  reject'-]  time  after  time  bv  manv  beamed 
men  and  distinjfuisbe'l  writers  wlio  were  co- 
teniporary  wltli  tbe  SijjijKised  s.cribes  }x»tb  of 
tb'-Old  and  the  New  Testaments. 

"  Witliout  ir<inii  back  to  anfii-nt  afres  for 
autborJtii'S  in  supjxjrt  of  this  assertion,  we 
find  in  m'xlern  times,  and  more  particularly 
in  our  own  day,  a  widesi)read  and  incr'-iis- 
in{^  oi)]>oeition  to  tbe  jjretensions  of  Christian- 
ity. Tliat  ojiiK^sition  lias  not  arisen  from  ih" 
jj^norant,  uneducated  mass<-s.  but  from  si-veral 
of  tbe  most  inti/llectual,  wdentific.  and  distin- 
guii-bei  men,  who,  with  a  var?t  number  of 
other  tljinkers,  also  broutrbt  up  iu  the  Cliris- 
lian  faith,  now  boldly,  and  with  no  i?mall  uhare 


of  morfci  e/nrrfcff*".  T^\fK\  it*  doctrine*  a«  p:>nri- 

(;u«.  and  **  depTfcd:nir  a'"d  iDC-:>ii»ist4:-n:  in  rel»- 
tjon  t/.>  the  attntjuter  &nd  j»erftiction§  of  an  all- 
wise  benevoient  B^Jiir.  ^'.n  only  Lave  dis- 
tin^TiisbiK  inymen  repuiiaiod  th*-  Scr.ptnrwR. 
but  acttial  p.^iesifr  of  tb^  lutAT.  like  tbe  late 
Kev.  Ko":»er:  Tayl'-r  oi  tbe  '.Lurcn  of  Enirland.. 
Lave  n'C'ly  resiffn^a  &  J1VJL4:  of  ease  and 
iuitiry.  ano  Lave  lefj  a  aanttaary  \»beretbey 
'yjiud  -vr-irsbip  tjo  I'lnc'-r.  j»^rLa}.e  to  enter  & 
j.riwm  a«  alieyei  blaspnemer?-.  But  fror. 
wjtiiin  tbe  ■walls  oi  OakLjjn  jail,  and  fr<»in 
tbe  able  j>en  of  the  same  Ii',''t*en  Tayk-r.  came 
forth  in  dae  time  tbe  Z/t^^x-w^  and  .'>yiit>gui.a. 
irorke  wLlcb  Lave  causesd  Lui.dred*  to  inves- 
tiirate  more  clo#.ejy  the  prr-iLLmptuous  tenets 
C'f  bis  reverend  T>ersecut.ors.. 

'■  Since  the  lieformatJ<.ii.  when  men  conld 
dare  to  sjieak  and  acn  m  -re  freely,  unanswer- 
able ar^-uments  Lave  beien  pnblisLed  aaralnst 
tbe  vaiiiiti"  of  the  eo-calied  sacred  writinc-s  of 
CLrlKlan"ty.  But  instead  of  a  fair  rej>ly  Laving 
be^n  grranted.  or  a  fa.r  oj>en  dlsciis&on  ti-ie- 
rated  hj  tbe  train^^d  and  T>aJd  reli^^ious  teach- 
ers, misretiresentatioiis  Lave  been  ]>rinted.  de- 
famatlv-n  Las  l»een  used,  jienaiiies  Lave  l>een 
inflici^ei.  and  UK.kt  containin.^r  calm,  reason- 
aijltr  arirun.ent  airainist  the  CLrist'.an  Bible — 
not  writtf-n  und«rr  tbe  idiotic  afiiatus  'if  in- 
*^3>'ra::on— have  l>een  systematicailly  j-roiscril^ed. 
t<>  such  an  estent  tlxat  not  <>De  bf>okseJJeroat  of 
fJty  wiii  v-rnture  to  c«f cr  th'^m  fv-r  hi^le.  Few 
indeej.  dare  to  ojijxjse  Christian  ].r 'hibitJon 
Protestant  toleration  in  tlJs  resjxx-t  is  strange- 
ly suspicious  :  and  its  tx/asttd  liberality  sin- 
gularly sj>urious  and  G>>.:-ej>tive." 

■■  To  s/jme  eit.trm.  I  acknowledge  that  such 
Las  been  tbe  case."  said  Mr.  Ca].>el.  ""  I  Lave 
often  regretted  that  works  i)ublishe'd  against 
Christianity  were  not  allowed  the  priviieg»- 
of  as  free  circulation  as  tbe  escelb-nt  l«ooks  of 
Paley.  Butler.  Greifiry,  and  many  fithrt^. 
written  in  deft-iis^  of  tbtr  Bible.  As  far  as  I 
can  learn,  such  writing?  are  fully  able  to 
c-junteract  any  publications  against  the  Holy 
.Scriptur>-s  :  candid  inv^-stigation  ought  10 
miike  truth  more  ap[iarent." 

■'TbeD."  continued  Mr.  Mannors.  "why 
du  jiriests  a.ssert  so  confidently  ihat  the  writ- 
ings and  arguments  of  uiil>elievers  are  but 
thvial  and  worthless,  yet  take  such  wonderful 
j>aln.s  to  jfrevent  their  coming  under  the 
n'tife  of  pious  eyes?  I  will  now  ask  you  in 
all  fairne*ss.  have  ymi  ever  reai  any  f<f  the 
works  written  against  the  pretensions  of  the 
Bible  V  Have  y.iuev.-rread  the-  .4^<- t>f  .R^/- 
*'y/i,(iregs  <'r€id  of  Chri^ttiaUjm.  Hittel's  ^'W- 
dih^ds,  the  DUgfxiji,  or  any  of  tlie  able  wfirks 
of  De  Weite,  Strauss,  Hume,  Rev.  Iktbert 
Taylor.  Kne  land,  and  otht-rs".'  You  have  no 
doubt  read  several,  if  not  all  of  the  b<>>ks  in 
f'.vor  of  Chris:ianity  :  now  have  you  reiul  any 
against  that  system  '.'" 

■'  I  liave  not  ;  in  fact.  I  have  never  seen  one 
of  the  biyihs  yon  mention." 

"  Then  you  can  have  no  correct  idea  of  the 
o]j!('ctions  wjiich  have  been  urged  Ity  distin- 
guii-h<-<l  ])erson3  against  your  faith.  You 
have  had  merely  the  jiulpit,or  tract,  or  ortho- 
dox buries  u*,  or  misrepresentation  of  the 
statements  made  by  jirnminent  iml>elievers.'' 

"  PerhajiS  bo  ;  yet  I  scarcely  think  that  re- 


EXETER    HALL. 


>  of  toi  lui- 
>  i>v<-  dis- 

e  *Lf  iiiie 
Eiig-liiiid, 

Ki  eiiU-r  & 
But  fron- 
fciid  fr<»m 
T].-.r.  came 

c>u8  t'eiiri^ 

rLrn  cv-ali 
iiii.s».n?-wer- 
-d  ^^^^n^•: 
frritings  of 
:)]t  Laving 
s«on  t<.']e- 
lvu«  t«*cii- 
.rinied.  de- 
Lave  lieen 
:ni.  rt-ascm- 
m  Bibk' — 
uUt  'if  in- 
pr'-isc'rilied, 
^"ilcToatof 
Uf.  Few 
iriLibitJon 
i?  « range- 
era:  it  V  ein- 

tLat  eucL 
••  I  Lave 

<-d  ag-aini-t 

■  jriviieg''- 

t  IxXiks  of 

Hv  ffibrt^. 

far  as  I 

able   xo 

tLt-  Holv 

ougLi  to 

•  wLy 
:be  wriT- 
are  but 
w.'iiderful 
tef  tbe 
LS.K  vdii  in 
uy  of  The 
ii>  t'f  the 
7<  i'f  R"t- 
ttei's  JE^r«- 
le  wfifks 
.  Kobert 
Lave  no 
b<«iks>  in 
reiul  any 

'  sii-en  one 

i-a  of  the 
by  distin- 
1.  You 
iii-ortlio- 
n  of  the 
tliever?.'" 
:  thai  re- 


h 


lipiotis  ptTfv-)!!?  -w.-iuid  misrepivser-t  t^  the 
extent  yoa  imairine  '" 

■•  As  i\  wouid  \«e  inip.issWe  for  a«  in  a 
limit-ed  disc:ls^:on  to  do  more  ths.ii  give  a 
panial  ii»ve«tiiration.  will  you  read  any  of  the 
den^'Uncvi  bxiks,  if  I  procure  them  fer  youV 
«said  Mr.  Mannors. 

••  M'  >s:  certAinly ;  I  will  readily  do  ?o.  I 
Lave  no  fear?  in  that  respect.'' 

'■  I  am  glad  to  hear  :lii<  ;  I  will  not  fri^rhten 
you  at  first."  SAJd  Mr.  MannTs  hu:n"rou>ily. 
••  with  either  Paine  or  V.-,]:aire.  or  any  other 
such  terrible  name.  I  w;ll  give  you  a  «mall 
work.  a5  a  commenceinent.  which  can  not  be 
«urpa<'!^.-d  for  t:ie  fair.  ]'la;n.  unpretending 
manner  in  which  it  d^^is  vith  the  Bible.'" 
Here  he  opened  a  bcMk-ca^e.  and  haniid  Mr. 
Cai">el  a  small  volume  entitled.  Greer's  (>(,;f 
<>f  CIiriMtdidom.  "You  ■nin."  cintinued  he. 
*•  l>e  pleased  with  the  style  in  which  it  is  writ- 
ten ;  ani  afterward,  if  you  desire.  I  will  give 
yoa  otlier  l>ooks  whioii  go  more  thoroughly 
into  the  subject.  And  now.  in  return,  if  there 
are  any  l"''jks  in  favor  of  Christianity  which 
you  w.-uld  wi-h  ine  to  read.  I  shall  do  s>.  and 
by  such  means  l*  better  able  to  come  to  a 
more  thorough  conclusion." 

■•  This  is  Very  fair,"  sai  1  Mr.  Capel  :  "  there 
can  be  no  objection  to  such  a  course.  I  have 
one  book  whicli  I  will  then  ask  you  to  Icxik 
over — that  is,  Gregory's  EcidiMis." 

'■  Agree-d  :  I  have  already  perused  Paley 
ani  several  others,  it  mav  be  that  Gregory  ' 
will  offer  something  new.  Ynn  see.  Lt'wever. 
that  neither  Christianity,  nor  any  other  system 
can  force  l>elief  by  denouncing  free  inquiry  : 
for,  atthe  present  day,  no  prudi-nt  or  intelligent 
man  will  scoff  at  the  arguments  of  unbelief, 
or  ^>^k  with  contempt  upon  the  r<.-liirious 
opinions  of  Hume,  Gibbon,  c'lielley,  Paine, 
Fronde,  B'-ntham,  Carlyle.  Joft'erstui,  <Treijr. 
Parker.  Volney,  Voltaire.  Rousseau.  Buff.in, 
Comte,  Spinoza,  De'  Wette,  Taylor,  Colenso. 
and  a  host  nf  such  others.  Xeitrly  all  of  the 
persons  I  Lav.'  named  have  written  against 
the  receivf'd  Did:,-'  J/ispirifi-m  of  the  Bible: 
and  it  is  )>o  t  evidence  of  justice  to  pronounce 
an  unlimited  condemnatiim  agninst  their  de- 
liberatc^-^fini on?,  or  even  against  the  opinions 
of  the  multitude  of  cautious  doubters,  who 
for  want  of  moral  courage  still  remain  nomi- 
nal Cliristians. 

"  We  Will  leave  the  subject  for  the  present  : 
one  day's  calm  perusal  of  the  liooks  we  have 
chost'u  may  be  better  than  a  week  of  discus-  ^ 
sioii,      We  shall  cotnpare  nrites  from  time  to  ■ 
timi',  and  see  what   advance  wo  sliall  have  ' 
nuule  toward  the  greaf  luminary,  truth,  which 
we  l>oth  desire  to  worship.''  \ 

During  this  his  first  conference  with  Mr.  ' 
iManuors,  the  young  preacher  felt  more  in- 
clined to  listen  than  to  speak  :  having  never 
liel'ort^  had  an  opportunity  of  discussion  with  ' 
an  unludiever,  he  wished  to  elicit  the  loading 
views  of  such  an  opponent.  He  was  surprised 
at  the  fairness  and  candor  of  Mr.  Mannors : 
and  when  they  left  the  room  together,  to  take 
a  walk  along  the  plea-sant  highway,  the 
prayer  of  Mr.  Capel's  heart  was  for  light — 
more  liffht. 


I  CHAPTER   XIL 

Shortly  after  the  stormy  Bible  meeting 
which  had  taken  place  in  the  Baptist  «.'hnrch, 
the  leading  memb-.-rs  of  the  congregation  of 
St.  Andrews  who  were  then  pn^ent.  and  who 
had  Ix^en  obligtsi  to  witness  tlx'  rudfUfss  and 
disc-'unesy  which  had  btn^n  maniftsttxi  to  Dr. 
Buster  onthat  occasion,  felt  that  sonie  demon- 
stration in  his  behalf  was  neces.s;iry.  in  order  to 
give  a  quiet  relnike  to  th'.^e  who  l;ad  en- 
deavonHl  to  lessini  that  i^ttvmeii  minister  in 
public  estimation  :  as  well  as  to  s;itisfy  that 
devoted  Christian  that  the  rude  trial  to  which 
his  faith  and  patience  had  Ix-en  su!>;ect«^l  only 
served  to  endear  him  still  more  and  mon^  to 
his  own  |x-ople  :  and  to  prove  to  the  world 
that  he  was  sujxrior  to  the  low  motives  of 
cunning  aitd  jealousy  which  h.id  evidently 
actuat<.^i  the  vulgar,  uneducated  aspirant.s  of 
other  denominations. 

A  committiv  of  ladies  was  soon  lonned.  and 
after  various  pn-liminary  meetings  an<l  delibi^ 
rations,  it  was  decidi\lthai.  as  a  corres]>>nding 
addition  to  the  fascinating  eye-glass  wiili 
which  he  had  l>^n  previor.sly  presenttxl,  a 
su]XTb  gold-headmi  cane  should  now  be 
furnished  the  doctor.  It  would  be  a  small  but 
significant  token,  or  rather  emblem,  of  the 
staff  he  was  to  them,  as  wtdl  as  to  assun.^  him 
that  he  would  find  his  numerous  frietids  united 
like  a  pillar  of  strength  in  the  day  i^"  trouble. 

In  fact.  Dr.  Buster  had  in  many  instances 
received  valuable  testimonials  <f  such  attach- 
ment. He  was  a  gittt\l  individual,  a  moral 
hero,  a  stickler  for  the  pun^  c'alvinisiic  d.x"trine. 
who  had  won  the  esteem  of  ministers  over 
whom  he  presided,  and  through  thetn.  :is  wtdl 
as  by  other  influences,  he  was  exalted  in  tlie 
eyes  of  the  piHtple  :  so  much  so.  that  numy, 
]>articvilarly  the  female  members  of  tlie  church, 
never  seemixl  tinnl  of  lavishing  favors  and 
distinctions  upon  him.  all  of  %vhich  the 
worthy  man  rtveived  with  due  and  humble 
acknowledgment.  Indeed,  so  often  and  so  rt^ 
freshing  had  these  evidences  been,  that  the 
pious  dixnor  more  than  once  I'eelingly  stated, 
that  he  was  quite  overcome  by  those  unex- 
pected and  undeservixl  pnxjfs  of  spiritual  af- 
fection. He  would  then  reiterate  his  entire 
un worthiness,  and  Ids  utter  inalality  to  do 
any  thing  of  himself:  he  would  piously  tell 
them  that  liis  sole  reliance  was  uptut  G*hI.  in 
whose  mighty  hand  he  was  but  a  very  weak 
.  ad  unworthy  instrument. 

He  might  have  thought  so  :  the  gifts  how- 
ever were  not  declined,  but  were  gratefully 
accepted,  not  of  course  for  their  intrinsic  value, 
but  as  mere  rememornnces  of  how  much  his 
weak  efforts  had  been  overratinl.  They  would 
be  incentives  to  fresh  zeal  in  tlte  cause  of 
orthodox  principles,  and  would  make  hiiu 
more  anxious  to  advance  the  interests  of  the 
true  Calvinistic  church.  He  could  look  around, 
and  see  many  of  these  presentations,  but, 
strange  to  stM-,  he  did  not  seem  to  value 
them.  There  was  more  than  one  richly  bound 
Bible  ;  there  were  gilt-edged  volumes  from 
the  Fathers,  and  valuable  works  by  varioua 
religious  authors ;  and  comprehensive  and 
learned  commentaries,  sufficient  to  enable  him 
to  give  some  meaning  to  doubtful  passages  ; 


62 


EXETER    HALL. 


'■■■  •* 


and  miscellaneous  gift-books  piled  up  in  such 
profusion  that  tho  worthy  man  had  scarcely 
more  time  to  spare  from  his  various  duties 
than  nu-rely  to  fead  tho  presentation  pafro, 
where  his  own  name  was  jjroudly  con- 
spicuous. Tlien  there  were  scriptural  subjects 
on  canvass,  in  rich,  heavy  frames  ;  there  was 
his  massive  gold  watch,  to  nnnind  him  of 
fleeting  time,  besides  little  articles  of  virtu 
and  chaste  specimens  of  bijoutene,  from  pious, 
individual,  female  friends  ;  but  above  all,  there 
was  tlie  splendid  service  of  plate,  presented  to 
him  but  a  few  months  before  he  had  been  for- 
saken by  her  who  sliould  have  been  his  help- 
mate ;  on  the  principal  piece  of  which  his 
name  and  worth  had  been  inscribed,  surround- 
ed by  a  halo  of  flourish  and  ornamentation. 
Tliis  ricli  sc^rvice  was  now,  alas !  useless ;  it 
was  laid  aside.  Was  not  his  home  desolate 
enough  ?  Tlie  glare  of  thy  rich  metal  might 
only  serve  to  remind  him,  tho  attlicted  pastor, 
of  the  vanities  of  life,  and  of  what  ho  was 
called  upon  to  suffer  in  the  cause  of  tho  Gos- 
pel. I 

On  this  particular  evening,  however,  the 
Rev.  Theopliilus  Buster  was  very  happy  ;  at 
least,  those  who  met  him  at  the  house  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Campbell  thought  so.  Since  he  had 
been  so  unexpectedly  deserted  by  his  wife.  Dr. 
Buster  never  asked  any  person  to  his  house. 
It  was  now  to  him  like  a  prison ;  for  appearance' 
sake  he  merely  lodged  in  it,  and  he  took  his 
meals  here  and  there,  as  most  convenient,  not 
having  yet  decided  on  any  particuljar  place. 
He  could  not  let  the  glconx  which  surrounded 
his  late  home  affect  his  children;  liehndthem 
removed  from  its  dreary  influence,  and  proper- 
ly cared  for  in  another  quarter.  He  could  not 
bear  to  hear  them  ask  for  the  mother  wIkj  had 
abandoned  them;  or  even  to  mention  her 
name. 

These  were  depressing  circumstances  ;  but 
when  the  reverend  doctor  was  asked  to  n.-et 
any  friends  at  Mr.  Campbt^ll's,  lie  endeavored  t  •> 
join  them  with  a  smiling  face,  like  an  upright 
Christian.  He  did  not  desire  to  obtrude  his 
sorrows  upon  others,  and  he  generally  succeed- 
ed in  making  his  visits  very  agreeable ;  and 
in  making  many — particularly  pious  ladies — 
believe  that  his  light  affliction  only  served  to 
make  his  discourse  more  heavenly. 

As  usual,  when  the  doctor  was  in  the  case, 
a  very  numerous  and  sislcct  party  had  as- 
sembled at  the  Rev.  Mr.  Campbell's,  and  after 
a  most  sumptuous  repast,  the  presentation  of 
the  gold-h(;aded  cane  was  made  by  one  of 
tho  most  affluent  and  influential  ladies  of 
the  congregation  of  St.  Andrew's  ;  and  the 
pretty  speech  which  she  read  on  the  occasion, 
referring  to  the  great  services  of  the  revcn'end 
moderator,  and  of  his  still  greater  trials — 
delicately  alluding  to  the  peculiar  domestic 
aflliction  under  which  he  at  present  labored — 
was  rapturously  a[)plauded. 

In  responding  to  this  fresh  evidence  of  their  ; 
regard,  the  learaed  doctor,  as  usual,  disclaim- 1 
ed  any  merit  in  himself.    He  was  duly  sensible  ! 
of  his  own  unworthiness,  and  he  was  almost 
unmanned   by  the   gentle   words  spoken   in 
reference  to  his  forlorn  condition.     No  doubt 
these  trials  have  their  good  eff"ect8  ;  th(>y  en- 
able the  ministers  of  God  the  more  fuUy  to 


alienate  their  afflictions  from  the  things  of  this 
world,  and  to  devote  themselves  more  freely 
to  the  work  of  their  Heavenly  Master. 

In  connecticm  with  this  subject  the  reverend 
doctor  reiterated  Ins  disinterested  opirion 
regarding  the  bestowal  of  costly  gifts  upon 
the  servants  of  the  Lord.  "  Of  what  value," 
ho  asked,  "were  such  things  to  those  who  had 
i  renounced  the  world  and  its  vanities'?  How 
much  better  it  would  be  were  the  minister 
forgotten,  and  the  humble  poor  held  in  greater 
remembrance."  He  felt  it  his  duty  to  state 
that,  agreeable  as  it  must  be  to  any  person  to 
receivi)  such  tokens  of  esteem,  it  would  be  to 
him  much  more  so,  were  tlu!  money  which 
was  lavished — he  used  this  word  empiiatical- 
ly — to  obtain  costly  articles,  placed  in  his 
hands  for  charitable  purposes.  Jle  did  not 
care  for  these  things.  How  grateful  it  would 
be  to  him  were  he  enabled  by  such  means  to 
relitivo,  to  a  greater  extent,  tho  sutt'erings  of 
the  uncomplaining  poor  which  his  daily  visita- 
tions had  led  him  todiscover — suff"erings  with 
which  he  deeply  sympathized,  but  whieh, 
alas !  too  often  pained  him  to  the  very  heart 
to  be  unable  to  mitigate." 

Such  exi)ression8  from  the  reverend  doctor 
under  the  circumstances,  could  not  fail  to  win 
for  him  a  still  greater  degree  of  considera- 
tion. Such  al)negation  was  a  rare  virtue  ;  it 
Avas  a  triumphant  refutation  of  the  malicious 
slanders  that  had  been  heaped  upon  tins  -ex- 
emplary man.  And  so  great  was  his  influence 
at  that  moment,  so  great  was  their  generous 
imj)ulse  toward  him,  that  a  single  hint  would 
have  sufficed  to  urge  every  lady  present  to  fling 
around  his  neck  her  rich  gold  chain  and 
jeweled  lock(!t,  as  an  offt'ring  to  his  worth 
and  self-denial,  and  as  a  sacrifice  on  tho  altar 
of  charity. 

A  few  hours  had  thus  been  spent,  and  all  pre- 
sent were  highly  pleased  and  edified.  It  was 
getting  lati',  and  as  Dr.  Buster  was  as  metho- 
dical in  his  habits  as  he  was  pimctual  in  his 
engagements,  he  signified  this  to  his  friends. 
His  dwelling  was  several  streets  distant  from 
Mr.  Campbell's,  and  as  he  had  an  appoint- 
nu'ut  with  a  friend  on  his  way  home,  ho 
rt't'usod  to  allow  any  person  to  accomjuiny 
liim.  At  his  r('(iuost,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Campbell 
offered  up  a  parting  i)rayer,  and,  at  the  con- 
clusiun,  the  moderator  never  looked  more  in- 
spired than  he  did,  when  with  closed  eyes  and 
Hpraiscid  hands  he  devoutly  gave  the  usual 
benediction.  And  when  he  went  away,  it 
seemed  to  many  as  if  some  pure  spirit  had 
departed,  and  for  some  time  afterward  the 
theme  of  tliose  who  remained  rela„^d  to  his 
piety,  his  virtue,  and  his  suft'erings. 

The  night  Avas  dark  when  the  doctor  left 
the  house,  and  when  he  got  a  short  distance 
btiyond  tho  light  that  was  flung  out  from  the 
windon-s  of  Mr.  Campbell's  residence,  he  hur- 
ried on.  It  had  just  then  commenced  to  rain, 
not  in  a  dripping  shower,  but  it  came  in  ])at- 
tering  drops  like  the  regular  precursors  of 
a  do'.vn-pouring.  The  doctor  increased  his 
steps,  and  walked  faster  and  faster.  He  wore 
a  heavy  cloak,  and  kept  his  face  well  nrnffled  ; 
he  went  along  at  a  quick  rate,  and  now  com- 
menced to  nuitter  to  himself;  and,  in  a  little 
time,  tho  words  became  almost  distinct  and 


EXETER    HALL. 


H 


audible.  ITo  walked  on  in  th!«  manner  fnr 
somo  minutes  ;  it  was  now  raininj;  heavily, 
and  he  Hiuldenly  turned  into  an  arched  ])a8- 
eajje  throujjh  wliieh  a  Htreet  lamp,  directly  in 
front,  went  HuHieient  li^ht  in  make  objects 
dimly  virtible.  Hero  the  doctor  ytoppcd  ;  ho 
still  mutter(!d,  and  then  he  drew  tin;  lumd- 
pomo  cane  from  under  Iuh  cloak,  and  held  it 
out  at  arm's  leufjth  before  him.  But  stay, 
hark  !  What  were  the  worus  ho  now  uttered, 
sufficiently  loud,  sharp,  and  distinct,  to  be 
plainly  heard  V  This  person  surely  could  not 
be  the  reverend  moderator :  tliest*  foul,  jiassion- 
ate  words  could  not  certainly  have  proceeded 
from  his  lips. 

He  still  held  out  the  cane,  and  its  polished 
smoothness,  and  massive^  jrold  carvinjf  flashed 
in  the  lamplljjht ;  he  looked  at  it  as  if  every 
moment  he  expected  to  S(«  it  become  some 
shininjnr  reptih',  or  that  he  intended  to  Hinj?  It 
contemptuously  against  the  rough  wall,  and 
break  it  to  picices. 

"  I  say  again,  blast  their  stupidity!  I  have 
told  them  time  after  tine  that  I  did  not  care 
for  their  baubles  ;  and  the  miserable  dolts 
fail  to  perceive  that  I  ever  want  money.  Hero 
is  this  thing — fit  only  for  a  Regent  street 
dandy — put  into  my  hand  instead  of — gold  ! 
If  I  were  to  be  exhibited  like  a  wax  figure  at 
Madame  Tussaud's,  this  pretty  piece  of  foppery 
might  help  to  set  me  off;  but,  my  God!  just 
to  think  of  the  fools  spending  the  money  I 
want  so  badly  for  the  like  of  this — twenty 
guineas !     My  heavens,  how  provoking  !" 

He  had  now  balanced  the  stick  on  his  open 
hand,  and  as  he  said  these  words  he  gave  it  a 
smart  toss  in  the  air,  and  caught  it  in  its 
descent  as  he  would  a  penny  piece. 

"Well,  may  confusion  seize  them!  here's 
tliat  cursed  note  for  ov«rr  a  hundred  pounds  to 
be  met  in  less  than  a  week,  and  these  finical 
jades  throw  almost  as  much  away  for  this  as 
would  have  eiuibled  me  to  get  a  renewal. 
Well,  well,  it  is  hard  to  appear  content  before 
them ;  I  have  a  mind  to  sell  this  precious  bit  of 
trumpery  to  the  first  Jew  I  meet,  if  I  should 
only  get  a  third  of  its  value." 

lie  paused  a  moment,  and  then  muttered 
again;  the  rain  was  falling  fast:  he  looked 
around,  and  pc^n-ed  into  the  dim  passage  as  if 
he  feared  the  presence  of  some  person.  For 
a  few  minutes  linger  ho  remained  perfectly 
still  and  thoughtful,  with  eyes  bent  steadily  on 
the  ground  ;  he  drcnv  a  Ioi\gl)reath,  looked  at 
his  watch,  and  again  snid  audibly,  "Quarter 
l)ast  ten — they  are  waiting,"  and  mutlling  his 
i'ace  once  more,  he  started  down  the  dark 
street  seemingly  indifferent  to  the  drenching 
rain,  or  the  starless  sky. 

The  doctor  had  scarcely  left  where  ho  had 
stood  when  two  persons  stepijod  from  a  door- 
way that  was  at  the  dark  end  of  the  jiassagi', 
and  rushed  forward  to  look  after  him.  One  was 
Robert,  who  lived  at  IJampstead  with  Mr. 
Mannors ;  the  other  was  a  stranger,  an 
American  relation  of  his,  who  had  been  only 
a  few  days  in  England.  Robert  had  come 
dowa  to  the  city  to  meet  him,  and  show  him 
the  sights  of  London,  and  here  was  ont^ — an 
unex|)e(-t(xl  scene — that  made  Robert  himself 
stare  wit-1isuri)rise. 

"  ykcsered,  l5ob,  au'tyou?"  asked  the  strang- 
er humorously. 


"  Well,  I'm  blowed  if  that  is'nt  old  Buster," 
said  Robert.  "  I've  seen  him  l)efore,  and  I've 
heerd  about  him,  the  pn^cious  hypocrite.  He 
beaut  about  for  nothing ;  he  wants  gold,  does 
he?  I'll  lay  that  chap  is  up  to  sumnuit.  I  say, 
Sam,  I'd  just  like  to  find  «nit  what  that  fellow 
is  about ;  let's  after  him  a  bit,  he's  going  our 
way." 

"  All  right — go  ahead,  steamboat — there 
an't  .0  time  to  talk,  that  ere  man  is  streak- 
ing It  right  through.  I  want  to  turn  Jew,  and 
get  that  pretty  stick  o'  liis'n ;  but  stop, 
what's  this '!"  and  he  stooped  and  i)icked  up  a 
folded  i)aper  from  near  the  spot  where  Doctor 
Buster  had  been  standing,  and  taking  it  to  the 
light,  read — "  A.  M.  North  street,  near  Jewish 
cemetery  " — "  This  is  something  o'  his'n,"  said 
he,  handing  Robert  the  paper;  "just  put  that 
away,  it  might  come  a  kind  o'  handy  after  a 
while." 

Robert  put  the  paper  in  his  breast  pocket, 
and  off  they  started.  As  they  hurried  along, 
he  gave  his  friend  a  little  of  what  he  knew  of 
the  history  of  the  reverend  doctor,  to  whom  they 
were  now  paying  such  attention  ;  he  was  still 
well  ahead  of  them,  and  had  be  turned  either 
to  the  right  or  hift,  he  might  have  escaped 
their  curiosity  altogether. 

Robert's  friend,  whom  he  called  Sara,  was  a 
slightly  built,  wiry-looking  young  man  ;  ho 
was  a  true  Yankee,  fond  of  adventure,  was  de- 
lighted with  this  little  chase,  and  like  his 
enterprising  countrymen,  he  was  determined 
to -find  the  bottom  of  the  well,  and  strike  Ue 
before  he  gave  up. 

They  were  gaining  fast  upon  the  doctor  ;  he 
could  now  hear  their  steps,  and  he  turned  round 
once  or  twice,  which  causqd  them  to  come  to 
a  dead  halt,  lest  he  should  become  suspicious. 
He  went  on  again,  and  turning  down  a  lane  to 
his  left  disapi)eared ;  and  when  they  got  to 
the  corner,  and  hjoked  down  the  dark,  narrow 
street,  the  doctor  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
They  stood  irresolute  for  a  short  time. 
Robert  was  for  hurrying  on,  but  his  friend, 
laying  his  hand  on  his  arm  quietly,  said, 
"Take  it  easy.  Bob  ;  'tan't  no  use  crowding  the 
critter  too  hard ;  he  an't  far,  he's  a  looking 
for  gold,  I  reckon ;  maybe  he's  got  u  little 
Californy  hereabouts :  guess  we'll  fish  him 
out  i)resently." 

The  third  house  from  the  corner  of  the 
strei't  was  a  small  tavern  ;  the  gas  lamp  over 
the  door  dis.played  the  rather  common  sign  of 
the  Simn  run.  The  lights  from  within  shone 
brightly  tlirough  the  windows,  giving  an  ex- 
hilVuiou  of  glasses,  and  painted  kegs,  and 
casks,  and  rows  of  bright  pewter  mugs.  There 
were  no  lights  to  be  seen  in  the  houses  close 
by,  and  this  led  Robert  to  suspect  that  the 
doctor  had  entered  the  tavern.  There  was 
but  one  door  in  front,  and  they  did  not  think 
it  best  to  go  in  for  a  while  ;  he  might  have 
only  taken  a  temporary  refuge  from  the  rain  ; 
ho  was  not  likely  to  be  known  in  such  a  place, 
and  if  he  did  not  come  out  soon,  they  might 
then  enter  and  see  for  themselves. 

It  was  agreed  that  Robert  should  walk  a 
little  way  up  the  street,  or  lane,  while  Sam 
remained  ojiposite  the  tavern;  a  small  porch 
afforded  a  shelter  for  this  purpose,  and  before 
Robtirt  started,  he  thought  it  best  to  look 
closelji  around  the  house.    There  was  no  one 


M 


EXETER    HALL. 


I.  -•  f. 

HI 


to  1)0  soon  mitsido  ;  the  plare  nt  Ixpt  was  not 
a  noted  tlior<m;>hraii',  mid  now,  in  tin;  dnrk- 
Hfss  and  rain,  it  had  an  nnnsiialiy  dt'Scrtt'd 
a]ii)fari\nc<>.  He  cautiously  approaclird  tlie 
front  window,  ami  saw  a  wonnm  niixinjr  Konic 
thinfr  in  a  few  tiiini)lcrs.  lit'  went  to  thu  sid(( 
of  tlic  lionsc ;  thorc  was  a  ])assay(^  from  tin; 
Ktri'ct  to  11  baciv  yard,  and  near  tin-  t-nd  of 
tlio  liiiildiiifx  tlirri'  was  a  sido  door,  evidently 
a  ]»iivate  eiit ranee.  lie  stepjied  earefiilly 
toward  tin-  first  side  window,  a  kind  of  red 
screen  covered  the  lower  half;  it  was  not 
quite  drawn  across,  and  there  was  suHicient 
sjiace  for  him  to  see  tliree  ])ersf)ns  in  a  small 
room.  They  were  sittin;;  at  a  table,  on(!  of 
tliem  witli  his  back  to  tin-  window,  and  wlien 
he  spoke.  Hobert  thoujrht  it  was  like  the 
voic(^  of  the  man  tliey  had  heard  solilo<iui/in{j 
under  the  archway.  In  a  little  while  the 
speaker  turned  his  side  face,  and  Doctor  Unster 
was  innnediately  reco^rni/ed.  IJobert  at  once 
sijjnaled  Sam,  and  they  bolh  stood  outside, 
and  had  a  lair  view  d'  v/hiit  was  going  on 
within. 

In  front  of  the  doctor  a  ladylike  person 
was  sitting  ;  she  was  dressed  in  black  ;  she 
•wore  a  bonnet  and  cloak,  as  if  ])re]mred  for  a 
journey.  The  oth(;r  ]ierson  could  be  iilainly 
seen  ;  he  sat  at  an  end  of  Ilit;  table  ;  he  ivas  a 
stout,  low-sized  nuvn,  well  dressed  ;  he  was 
partly  bald  on  the  front  jiart  of  his  head,  his 
hair  and  heavy  whiskers  were  turnin<i:  fjray; 
there  was  an  expression  of  cunnin<x  ou  his 
face  ;  but  alto<rether  ln>  looked  respectable.' 

Tlu-y  wen;  talkine;  in  a  low  voice,  and  al- 
thou/jh  Iiobert  and  his  friend  tSam  listened 
attentively,  they  conld  nf)t  hear  a  word  ;  the 
conversation  was  mostly  between  Doctor  Bus- 
ter and  the  other  gentleman. 

The  landlady  now  brought  in  a  tray  with 
three  tumbles  holding  some  hot  litpiid  ;  and 
when  the  door  was  again  closed  i  \  e  conversa- 
tion was  resumed.  -^ 

The  gentleman  who  sat  at  the  end  of  the 
tahlo  ap])eared  very  thoughtful,  and  stroked 
his  bushy  whi.skers  while  he  leaned  back  in 
his  chair  and  looked  vacantly  toward  the 
coiling.  He  sipped  the  contents  of  his  tumbler 
leisurely  while  the  doctor  was  speaking.  The 
lady  seemed  to  be  a  quiet  listener  ;  she  spoke  a 
few  words  once  or  twic(\  Robert  watched 
closely  to  try  and  discover  who  she  was,  but 
a  heavy  dark  vail  hung  over  her  face,  com- 
pletely hiding  her  features. 

In  a  little  time  Doctor  Buster  stood  up ;  he 
continued  to  address  the  gcnthmian  who  was 
sitting;  he  was  more  excited,  and  soon  spoke 
sufficiently  loud  to  permit  the  listeners  outside 
to  hear  ev(>ry  word.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  have 
told  you  all ;  had  I  allowed  her  to  roam  al>()ut 
at  large  among  all  kinds  of  ])eople,  shewonld 
not  only  have  circulated  the  most  scandalous 
reports  against  myself,  but  against  every  friend 
I  have.  For  over  eight  months,  I  have  kept  lier 
(piietly  confined,  but  this  moderate  n^straint 
has  only  made  her  worse.  She  lias  been  well 
treated,  and  I  have  made  my  house  lik<!  a  pri- 
son to  keep  her,  if  possible,  from  the  poisonous 
iniluence  oi  others  ;  but  all  to  no  purpose. 
I  have  tried  to  n^claim  her  by  argument, 
by  persuaf-ioii,  and  by  other  reasonable  means  ; 
she  will    not  be  convinced,  but   blasphem?* 


I  under  my  very  roof!      ITow  can  T  stand  this  ? 

j  If  I  reason  with  her,  she  not  will  listen  ;  and 

]  now  she  demands  separatiim.  she  demands  her 

children,  and  she  demands  an   estnblislnnent 

I  for   herself,  to   teach    them    her  own   errors. 

I.Inst  think!  she  is  bold  enough  to  denounce 

'  th(!  Bible,  to  scotl"  at  religion,  and  I   found  by 

I  inen^    chance  that    shts  has  bieii  actually  in 

\  communication  with  a  jierson  lUimed  Manners, 

one  of  the   most    infamous   characters   in  or 

about  Loudon,  a  wretch,  who  by  all  accounts 

fears  neither  (lod  nor  nuin  I" 

As  the  (hictor  spoke,  he  held  out  both  hands, 
and  regularly  emphasized  his  words  by  bring- 
ing his  shut  list  d(jwn  upon  his  op.en  ])alm; 
and  wiien  lu;  spoke  of  Mr.  Mannors,  he  <lid  so 
with  such  extreme  bitterness  that  Bobert 
groaned  with  8Ui)pressed  indignaiion;  and 
the  curse  which  he  then  mutt(  red,  like  an 
angry  growl,  is  not  fit  to  bt;  recorde<l. 

'•lean  not,"  continued  tlu;  debtor,  "  stand 
this  any  longer;  she  demands  an  establish- 
ment for  herself,  and,"  said  he,  lowering  liis 
voice,  and  bending  significantly  toward  the 
individual  he  was  addressing — "  with  your  as- 
sistance, I  shall  provide  her  one.  Several  ])ious 
friends  have  told  uu;  that  the  woman  is  in- 
sane. I  have  tried  not  to  believe  this,  l;ut  I  be- 
lieve so  now  ;  she  must  be  nuuie  submissive, 
if  not  to  nu>,  at  leait  to  the  (iospel  ;  and  the 
most  influential  mi.-s.'onary  I'or  lu'r  case  will 
b(!  found  in  an  asylum.  Now,  Doctor  Marks, 
as  a  member  of  our  church,  1  wish  you  to  as- 
sist me,  I  want  you  to  see  this  unfortunate 
w(nnan  yourself.  You  will  find  hi-r  just 
what  I  have  told  you,  and  your  certi^cate 
will  he  sufficient  to  j)lace  her  where  she 
will  be  better  cared  for ;  and,"  said  lie, 
with  a  peculiar  smile,  "she  may  at  last  find  a 
minister  that  may  bring  her  to  a  sen.se  of  her 
duty.  This  lady,"  ])ointing  to  the  female  be- 
fore him,  "  is  one  of  ourselvr-^ ;  she  btdongs  to 
Mr.  Cumpell's  congregation,  and  has  been  n 
matron  in  a  private  asylum.  She  is  satisfied 
that  there  are  synii)tonis  of  insanity  ;  I  have 
asked  her  to  meet  us  here,  and  she  can  inform 
you."'^ 

"  Wo  have  seldom  had  many  worse  cases," 
she  said  ;  "  there  is  a  peculiarity  about  this  poor 
lady  that  I  don't  know  how  to  explain  ;  she  is 
no  way  violent,  but  is  all  for  arguuient.  Lor 
bless  you,  no  ont;  could  resist  divine  grace,  and 
say  that  rcdigion  is  a  tkdusiou,  and  have  a 
scrand  mind.  She  has  d()ne  tlii.s — and  it  is  not 
long  since  she  was  a  church  meiiiber  ;  a  sud- 
d(!n  change  like  tliis  ought  to  i)e  conclusive. 
Doctor  Marks  can  see  for  himself." 

The  lady  pronounced  tin  s(!  last  words  with 
a  kind  of  selfsutHcient  air,  whii'h  .she  seemed 
satisfied  ought  to  settle  the  business. 

"  I  admit,"  said  Doctor  Marks,  trying  to  look 

very  devoutly  impressed,   "  that  the  sudden 

change  of  which  you  speak,  from  i)iety  to  ])ro- 

fanity,  is  often  a  marked  symptom  of  mental 

clisi^ase.     Her  dei)lorable  hallucination  seems 

^  to  be,  that  the  Bible  is  false  ;  as  to  her  partial 

j  insanity,  therefore,  there  can  scarcely    be   a 

I  doubt  ;   the   case,  however,  is   rather   singu- 

!  lar." 

I  "  Yes,"paidDoctorBuster,  "ith.asl)c«ngradu- 
j  ally  coming  to  tliis  ;  she  first  commenced  to 
I  rebuke  me  for  preaching  eternal  puuisluueut ; 


EXETER    HALL. 


65 


then  slin  insisted  that  there  muBt  have  been 
inturpohitloiisor  wroii}?  translations  ;  then  sha 
disbelieved  in  Kcriptiiral  inspiration;  and  at 
last  suddenly  beeaine  an  f)pen  del'i-nder  of  the 
Secularists.  Could  I  submit  to  this  ?  Could 
youV 

"  Well,"  said  Doctor  Marks,  "  I  see  how  it  is. 
If  you  are  ready,  wo  will  (jo,  and  in  a  short 
time  I  will  try  what  can  be  done  ;  as  it  is,  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  her  nund  isatT'eeteil." 

Doctor  Hurtter  w(uit  to  the  door,  and  spoke  a 
few  words  to  the  landlady,  and  in  a  little 
time  a  vehicle  from  the  back  yard  was  heard 
approachinjf  ;  it  was  a  cab  ;  it  stopped  at  the 
front  door,  thnso  persons  entered  it,  then  the 
driver  at  once  mounted  his  seat  and  drove 
quickly  away. 

"  By  the  'tai'nal,  T?ob,  we  came  upon  them  a 
kind  o'sk^ek  ;  let's  follow  that  crowd,  there's 
somethinjj  up.  We  can  keep  alongside  that 
cab  o'  his'u  better  than  trying  to  track  them 
afterward— wo  can  go  it  like  a  streak." 

Robert,  however,  \vas  ahead  already.  On 
they  ran,  without  saying  a  word,  for  sometime. 
The  rain  had  partly  ceased,  but  heavy  blasts 
of  cold  wind  swept  along  the  deserted  streets, 
whisking  into  mist  the  pattering  drops  that  fell 
from  projecting  eaves,  threatening  rickety 
sign-boards,  and  penetrating  the^thin  wretch- 
ed cov(;ring  of  the  homeless  wanderers  who 
were  then  trying  to  find  shelter.  Wide  and 
narrow  streets  were  ]>assed ;  comers  were 
turned  ;  and  gloomy  looking  houses  seemed 
to  bo  gliding  further  away  into  the  darkness. 
The  night-watch  as  he  peered  from  his 
cover  might  not  have  wondered  at  the 
rattling  8[)eed  of  the  vehicle,  but  he  no  doubt 
felt  a  degree  of  suspicion  ujwn  seeing  two 
persons,  one  at  each  side,  following  it  up  so 
closely,  and  running  through  street-pools 
with  the  most  reckless  indifference. 

"  Guess  they're  a  going  to  hitch  up  here," 
said  Sam,  in  a  low,  hurried  voice  and  almost 
out  of  breath,  as  the  pace  began  to  slacken, 
and  the  horse's  head  was  directed  toward  a  row 
of  gloomy  buildings  in  a  quarttT  of  the  city 
that  was  not  the  best  lighted  ormost  populous. 
Near  the  centre  of  this  row  there  were  two 
houses,  older  looking,  and  nearly  a  story 
liigher  than  those  on  either  side ;  they  had 
a  deserted  appearance,  and  the  vehicle  was 
brought  to  a  full  stop  at  the  further  house. 
There  was  not  a  light  to  be  seen ;  the  lower 
windows  were  well  secured  by  strong  shut- 
ters, while  dark,  heavy  curtains  prevented  the 
least  ray  from  being  noticed  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  building.  Three  persons  ascended  the 
stone  steiis  ;  a  l)ell  was  rung,  the  strong  front 
door  was  cautiously  opened,  and  they  ([uietly 
entered,  leaving  the  cab  to  remain  as  if  it  were 
to  be  shortly  required  again. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

Since  the  rumored  departure  of  Doctor  Bus- 
ter's wife,  very  few  jiorsons  had  ever  entered  his 
house.  It  was  a  desolate  place ;  in  the  princi- 
pal apartments,  the  furniture  was  covered, 
the  mirrors  and  pictures  were  shrouded,  and 


already  the  rich  rugs  and  carpets  were  fast 
beconung  damp.  Almost  every  tlung  in  the 
other  rooms  was  bundled  up  and  stowed  away, 
as  if  for  an  auction  sale,  wliile  the  kitchen 
fire,  though  not  actually  put  out,  was  merely 
kejit  alive  ;  and  the  savory  odors  that  had 
often  ascended  with  appetizing  qualitij-swero 
now  replaced  by  less  fragrant  fumes  from  the 
homely  fare  of  the  solitary  care-taker  of  the 
premises. 

There  were  two  apartments,  however,  in 
that  lonesome  house  that  were  still  used  ;  one 
was  the  doctor's  library  and  study,  situated 
on  the  first  floor.  Though  lie  visited  this 
place  every  day,  it  was  not  always  to  read,  or 
spend  an  hour  in  ndigious  contemplation,  but 
often  for  the  purpose  of  transacting  business, 
and  to  receive  visits  from  a  few  ministerial 
brethren  and  others,  who  were  granted  that 
privilege.  It  was  allowed  to  renuiin  in  a  very 
disorderly  state  ;  b(K)k8  and  jjapers  w(;re  lying 
about,  torn  scraps  of  writing  were  scattered 
here  and  there,  and  almost  every  thing  else 
was  tossed  and  misplaced  in  the  most  negli- 
gent manner  ;  and  there  were  times,  when,  if 
one  could  have  entered  this  retreat,  evidences 
of  the  doctor's  occasional  i)artiality  for  a  little 
brandy  and  tobacco  might  be  easily  detected. 

The  other  apartment  was  one  that  only  the 
doctor  and  one  or  two  other  persons  ever 
entered.  It  was  a  large  upper  room,  old  and 
dilapidated,  in  the  back  part  of  the  house  ; 
it  was  cold,  bleak,  and  dimly  lighted ;  there 
was  but  one  small  window  at  the  end,  through 
which  a  gleam  of  sunlight  never  entered,  and 
which  looked  into  a  kind  of  yard  ;  and,  al- 
though this  window  was  many  feet  from  the 
ground,  yet  it  wasi  secured  on  the  outside  by 
iron  bars,  which  were  but  a  comparatively  re- 
cent i)recaution  against  burglars.  There  was 
scarcely  any  thing  to  be  seen  in  this  room 
frave  a  few  things  requisite  for  its  solitary  oc- 
cupant. There  were  a  small  table  and  a  little 
wooden  stool,  and  a  wretched  straw  bed 
spread  out  upon  the  floor  in  a  corner.  Close 
l)y,  there  was  a  small  closet,  in  which  was 
hung  some  patched  and  tattered  articles  of 
clothing.  It  was  a  melancholy  place  tor  one 
to  spend  long  nights  and  tedious  days  and 
dreary  months  in,  brooding  in  loneliness  and 
sorrow,  and  wishing  for  death,  like  the  i)oor 
forlorn  creature — the  victim  of  an  arbitrary 
priest — the  prisoner  of  religious  tyranny — who 
was  weeping  away  her  life,  recalling  the  sor- 
rows and  joys  of  the  past,  and  thinking  with 
suspicious  dread  upon  the  bleak,  bleak  future. 

She  sat  upon  the  hard  bed  in  the  black 
darkness  of  the  night,  listening  to  the  rain, 
and  to  the  wild  wind  that  ripped  up  the  loose, 
fragile  roof-slates  and  sent  them  flying  into 
the  street.  The  window  shook,  and  the  thin 
panes  trembled  as  the  cold  blast  rushed 
through  some  crack  or  crevice  into  the 
wretched  chamber.  She  sat  and  listened  to 
the  wild  commotion  of  the  night ;  and  the 
wailing  outside  was  in  unison  with  her  own 
desponding  thoughts.  She  wrung  her  thini 
hands,  and  then  placed  them  over  her  wan  face 
that  was  once  so  fair;  her  scanty  brown  hair 
fell  around  her  shoulders.  It  had  lost  i,ts  ricb 
luxuriance, and,  already,  threads  of  silvery  hue, 
wrought  in  through  its  darker  folds  by  early 


66 


EXETER    HALL. 


t: 


prrief,  could  be  traced,  to  corresiKind  with  the 
lines  of  caru  that  were  ])reniaturel7  and  in- 
delibly marked  upon  her  brow. 

She  rose  and  knelt  upon  the  straw  pallet, 
and  raised  her  hands  implorinjyly ;  she  re- 
mained in  this  position  for  awhile,  lieaving 
heavy  sijrhs,  and  strufijrling  witli  painful  emo- 
tion, and  then  exclaimed, "(J  God  !  O  God  ! 
why  do  I  suffer  thus  ?  What  is  to  become  of 
my  poor  children  ?  What  is  to  become  of  me? 
I  can  not  exist  here  much  longer.  Am  I 
never  to  see  them  again  ?  O  dear,  dear, 
dear,  the  dreary  Avinter  I  hav^  spent !  How  I 
v\s\\  my  sorrow  was  buried  fovever  in  the  cold 
grave !"  And  then,  as  she  felt  some  sudden 
pang,  she  pressed  her  hands  over  her  flutter- 
ing heart,  and  said,  "  I  rvish  it  would  break — 
it  will,  it  will,  but  not  till  I  see  them  again  ; 
let  it  not  bo  until  tl^en.  O  my  poor  chil- 
dren !" 

Once  more  she  listened,  as  if  waiting  for 
some  friendly  voice  of  sympathy  to  whisper 
liope  ;  as  If  looking  up  for  some  kind  hand  to 
lift  her  from  out  the  dark,  angry  waves  in 
which  she  was  struggling.  The  hoi  tears 
chased  each  otlier  fast  and  faster  down  her 
fevered  cheeks,  the  storm-wind  still  reveled 
in  the  dark  night,  and  its  wild  and  swelling 
wail  was  the  only  response  to  the  poor  suffer- 
er. Yet,  strange  to  say,  she  paused  to  hear 
the  melancholy  sounds  more  distinctly  ;  evcui 
;  at  that  lonely  hour  there  was  something  sooth- 
ing in  them,  something  which  ke])t  her  a 
moment  from  thinking  of  her  own  grief.  She 
was  not  aliiiid  ;  those  spirit-like  wails  show- 
ered down  no  heavy  curses  mion  her  defense- 
less head,  like  the  dreadful  mutterings  o*'  that 
other  voice  which  she  too  often  had  heard  in 
that  very  room. 

While  thus  pitifully  waiting — waiting  for 
something — for  any  thing — for  the  merest 
symptom  of  day-dawn  to  her  long  night  of 
trouble — for  the  faintest  ray  of  liglit,  or  hope, 
to  cheer  away  any  of  the  dreadful  gloom  that 
was  around  her  like  a  thick,  dark  shroud,  she 
was  startled  by  a  low  rap  at  the  door.  She  held 
her  breath,  her  ears  might  have  deceived  h(>r, 
she  heard  the  rap  again,  but  louder  ;  there 
was  a  pause,  and  then  a  voice  suM  : 

"  Are  voa  awake,  madam '!" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  am  Mrs.  Pinklcy.  I  have  a  message  for 
you;  a  person  wishes  to  see  you,  if  you  will 
please  to  arise  and  dn;ss  ;  I  will  bring  u  light 
and  the  key." 

"  I  will,  yes,  certainly ;  I  will  be  ready  in  a 
moment." 

The  sight  of  any  hiunan  being,  sav(i  one, 
would  now  \m\  a  welccnnt;  intrusion  ;  ncnther 
the  lateness  of  the  hour,  nor  the  unusual  time 
for  such  a  call,  made  any  difference  ;  she 
would  sec  one  of  her  own  sex  ;  she  was 
yearning  to  hear  a  wf)nian  speak  to  her  then, 
no  matter  If  even  liuUfferent  to  her  HuiltTings. 

Sii(!  had  scarcely  tiuKi  to  hurry  on  a  few 
things  befon^  she  heard  the  woinanV  stej),  and 
saw  a  light  stream  in  through  the  Uey-hole. 
The  door  was  o])en(Hl,  and  Mrs.  riiikley  en- 
tered ;  she  had  been  there  several  tliin's  be- 
fore, and  conscciuently  was  not  like  an  entire 
fltrangi-r.  Tliough  lookcnl  upon  with  suspicion, 
and  many  of  the  ungodly  and  uncharitable 


were  of  opinion  that  her  intimacy  and  dovoted- 
ness  in  ccmnection  with  the  jnous  and  cir- 
cumspt'ct  Doctor  13uster  was  not  exactly  ia 
accordance  with  strict  Presbyterian  rule,  she 
was,  however,  one  of  the  flo.'ik,  a  steady 
church  member,  and  in  the  eye  of  many  of 
the  elect  this  was  sufficient  to  cover  a  multi- 
tude of  sins. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you,"  she  said, 
placing  the  s^iall  lamp  upon  the  table,  and 
leisurely  taking  off  h(^r  bonnet.  "  I  know  it 
is  rather  late ;  but  I  will  as.sist  you  to  dress, 
and  to  put  things  in  a  little  order.  A  gentl©- 
mai.  below  wishes  to  speak  to  you.  O  my ! 
don't  start — It  is  not  your  husband,  although 
he  will  be  here  also  ;  the  person  I  mean  is  his 
friend,  and — " 

"  Alas !  may  be  my  enemy." 

"  Oh !  not  an  eneniy,  by  no  means;  he  is  a 
friend  ;  yes,  he  comes  at  the  request  of  your 
husband.  I  think  they  wish  to  remove  you 
from  this  dull  place,"  said  she,  bowing  and 
smiling  ;  "  the  change  you  will  iind  much 
better — don't  you  think  so?  Indeed,"  said 
she,  looking  around  her,  "  this  jdace  is  not  fit 
for  you — not  at  all." 

7'ho  poor  woman  shuddered  when  she 
heard  this,  at  least  when  she  heard  that  her 
husband  was  coming.  He  never  entered  but  to 
threaten  and  reproach  ;  but  then,  thought  she, 
he  will  not  be  alone,  he  will  not  surejjp  curse 
or  try  to  terrify  mo  before  others.  Still  she 
trembled  ;  and  then  suddenly,  as  If  tlilnking 
of  her  great  wrongs,  she  looked  up  defiantly, 
and  said  : 

"  Let  lilm  come  !  he  can  do  little  more  than 
he  has  doncs  already  ;  perhaps  the  sooner  ho 
strikes  the  fir.al  blow  the  better." 

"Omy!  madam,  don't  talk  so!  Ho  won't 
Injure  you,  no  indeed."  Yet  Mrs.  Pinkley 
was  no  way  disconcerted  ;  she  smiled,  and  was 
very  complaisant.  She  was  a  tall  woman, 
slight  but  well  i)roi)ortioned  ;  she  had  dark 
hail",  a  red  face;  there  was  something  hard 
and  repulsive  In  her  cold  gray,  wandering 
(\ve,  and  her  mouth  was  decidedly  sensual. 
Sh.'  had  (]nit(!  a  profcissional  address,  and,  as 
sill  moved  aoout.the  touch  of  her  cold,  delicate 
hand  now  iiiade  the  poor  victim  before  her 
shrink,  as  she  would  from  the  f;niooth,  chilly 
contact  of  a  reptile,  or  as  if  she  had  felt  thu 
hand  oi  an  ''xccut loner. 

•  I  think,  madam,  we  will  do  now" — sho 
madt>  a  slight  survey — "  yes,  we'/c  ready,"  said 
she,  bowing,  and  graceiully  backing  toward 
the  door  ;  "I  will  just  hint  that  we  can  see 
them."  And  placing  her  soft  wliite  hand  to 
thn  hide  of  her  mouth,  she  gavr  a  jieculiar 
cniigh,  twice  or  thrice,  and  jiresently  she 
ushered  in  tlui  two  gcniienien  with  tho 
stately  ceren\ony  of  a  duchess. 

Doctor  Buster  entered  lirst,  with  a  heavy, 
formidable  stride,  and,  despite  of  her  resolu- 
tion, his  enfeebled  wife  became  nervous  when 
she  saw  his  nuillcious  IVowu,  and  she  turned 
her  eyes  away  from  the  unfeeling  determina- 
tion that  was  concentrated  in  his  ga/e. 
Doctor  Marks,  who  was  tli(>  other  jierson, 
advanced  toward  lier  with  the  easy  address 
of  a  geiitlenuui,  and  very  ]Kilit('ly  said  how 
'  much  he  regretted  to  be  obliged  to  make  a 
'  call  at  so  unseasourble  an  lunir.     "  In  fact," 


EXETER   HALL. 


m 


he  said,  "  lie  was  about  to  leave  town,  and  lier 
husband,  who  was  anxious  about  the  state  of 
her  healtli,  reciuested  him  to  pay  her  a  visit  at 
once."  His  manner  was  very  insinuatin<^, 
and  his  soft  words  seemed  as  harmless  as  the 
prattle  of  an  infant. 

Slio  heard  these  words ;  they  might  have 
given  her  confidence,  but  she  lieeded  not 
the  speaker.  She  became  at  once  self-possessed, 
and  quietly  folding  her  arms,  sent  a  steady 
look  of  scorn  upon  the  scowling  countenance 
before  li(!r.  Slie  seemed  for  the  moment  be- 
reft of  all  fear  or  dread  whatever,  and  totally 
indilferent  as  to  personal  results. 

"  My  husband — my  health — did  you  say  ? 
Ila  !  ha!  my  husband  !  Yes,  this  is  what  an 
arbitrary,  unjust  law  may  call  him;  tliis  is 
wliat  our  social  barbarous  conventionalism 
may  designate  him — but  to  me,  what  is  he  ? 
I  know  him  to  be  my  unfeeling  tyrant,  and 
l)ersecutor,  and  ho  may  yet  be  my  murcftjrer. 
My  health '!  Here  is  a  proof  of  his  anxiety 
for  my  condition,"  said  she,  spreading  out 
her  hands,  as  if  directing  their  observation  to 
the  room  ;  and  then  she  drew  up  her  sleeve 
and  exhibited  her  attenuated  arm.  "  Here  I 
have  been  the  victim  of  his  intolerance,  and 
in  tliis  place  I  have  had  terrible  proof  of  his 
pious  attention  and  care  for  nearly  a  yea:'. 
Wliile  he  has  been  preaching  like  an  apostle, 
and  pmying  for  the  souls  of  others,  almost 
unknown  to  the  world  he  has  been  heartless- 
ly persecuting  my  frail  body  in  this  prison. 
My  liealtli !  VVluit  a  mockery  !  Did  he  care  for 
myhealth  when  he  robbed  me  of  my  children, 
and  thrust  me  into  this  place  ?  I  have  been 
treated  like  a  criminal,  and  debarred  liberty  ; 
ho  now  seeks  to  deprive  me  of  my  senses, 
and  it  may  bo  that  ho  will  yet  take  away  my 
very  life." 

She  directed  these  last  words  with  such 
deliberation  that  tliey  went  stinging  around 
tlie  reverend  doctor's  ears  like  tlie  touch  of 
scorpions,  and  Ins  Cliristian  restraint  became 
HO  impotent,  that  were  it  not  for  his  own 
actual  bd'ety  he  would  have  annilulated  her 
witli  one  mighty  l)low. 

"  Yes,  strike,"  said  she,  "  I  too  well  know 
the  brutal  fury  of  your  passion  ;  l)ut  I  lear  you 
not— what  do  I  care  for  life  ?  But  even  wiult! 
it  lasts — wliile  I  can  still  speak,  I  will  tell 
some  one  of  your  infamy;  I  have  been  silent 
too  long.  If  1  can  tell  no  others,  these  people; 
shall  hear  of  it.  1  will  place  you  in  their 
l)ower — they  may  be  yet  witnesses  against 
you." 

Mrs.  Pinkley  here  became  very  much  affect- 
ed ;  she  was  actually  shocktid  ;  she  found 
some  relief,  however,  in  a  pious  ejaculation, 
and  muttensd  some  inanity  about  falling  from 
grace. 

"  I'ray,  madam,"  said  Doctor  Marks,  "  do 
not  allow  yoiirsi^lf  to  beconu;  so  excited  ;  your 
liusband  is  anxious  about  you,  and  wo  are  here 
tos.'.rve  you,  if  possibh;." 

"  That  is  easily  done.  If  he  is  anxious  about 
me,  l(>t  him  give  me  my  children  and  my 
liberty  ;  let  him  cast  me  out  ui)on  tlut  world 
from  this  very  place,  and  I  sluvUneiid  no  other 
physician.  If  you  wish  to  serve  me,  if  you 
are  hero  as  friends,  tlien,"  said  she.'loweriiig 
her  vt)ico  to  tenderness,  "  plead  with  him  for 


me — plead  with  him,  kind  friends  ;  let  him 
restore  me  to  my  little  ones,  and  I  will  never 
trouble  him  more.  I  will  go  away,  far  away, 
where  my  name  shall  never  bring  him  a  re- 
]iroach."  She  fell  on  her  knees,  and  seized  the 
hands  of  Doctor  Marks,  and  looked  up  to  his 
face  most  appealingly  through  lier  tears, 
"  Oh  !  do,  good  sir,  pity  me  ;  will  you  be  my 
fj-iend  ?  I  am  an  afflicted  woman  who  has  been 
sorely  tried;  bo  my  friend,  lead  me  to  my 
children,  and  the  sea  shall  divide  me  from  that 
man,  and  its  trackless  mountains  shall  remain 
between  us  forever." 

Doctor  Marks  had  a  heart,  it  was  touched 
by  this  natural  appeal,  he  felt  embarrassed, 
and  he  gently  raised  the  weeping  woman,  and 
made  her  sit  on  the  low  stool ;  while  Mrs. 
Pinkley  affected  to  require  an  sTrlication  of 
her  handkerchief,  to  keep  hw\  i'u;s  which 
were  yet  frozen. 

"  Woman,"  said  Doctor  I?  ^tei,  tr  d  „•  to 
suppress  liis  rage,  "woman,  u^  sile-'t,  if  you 
have  any  reason  left.  You  shall  never  litter 
blasph«;mies  in  your  children's  ears  ;  tliey 
would  only  live  to  curse  you  for  blighting 
their  hopes  of  eternity." 

'•  Reason !  That  is  what  you  liavo  always 
denounced ;  it  is  because  you  have  despised 
that  noble  faculty  that  I  am  here  now. 
"  Friends,"  said  she,  addressing  the  other 
persons,  "  were  it  not  for  reason,  I  might  have 
been,  as  he  is,  a  shining  light  in  tlie  church.  I 
might  havo  still  been  a  believer  in  that  inspir- 
(>d  revelation  that  has  made  him  so  chaste,  so 
forgiving,  and  so  exemplary.  I  might  have 
remained  a  priestly  instruiuent  to  disseminate 
what  I  now  believe  to  be  error.  My  rea.-^on  re- 
belled against  a  doctrine  that  would  depict  a 
divine  Being  to  be  as  cold,  us  iieartless,  and  as 
revengeful  as  that  man  before  you.  I  could 
not  believe  in  the  eternal  punishment  which 
ho  preached,  and  which  he  would  relentlessly 
practice  upon  me." 

"  Wrettdi !  what  mercy  can  you  expect  either 
fi'om  God  or  man  after  uttering  such  impious 
sentiments?  you  shall  have  none  from  mo  1 
If  your  boasted  reason  has  led  you  to  this  state 
of  degradation,  if  it  has  lo.l  you  to  trample 
upon  Christian  truth,  tlien,  by  Heavens  !  it 
must  load  you  out  of  this  to  a  place  where  it 
may  be  beitiT  cultivated.  I  will  not  foul  my 
hands  any  longer  with  your  L'prous  carcass  ; 
])repare  and  leave  this  house,  and  may  your 
days  be  si)ent  in  weeping,  and  your  nights  lie 
as  woeful  as  the  terrors  of  the  damned  !"  As 
he  said  this,  the  shadow  of  liis  rai!*"d  list  could 
be  s(!en  like  a  death's  head  on  the  opposite 
wall. 

Doctor  Marks  stood  almost  api)al1ed  wlieu 
he  heard  these  imprecations  ;  Doctor  Buster's 
fa(!e  was  livid  with  rage  ;  lie  looked  irion*  like 
a  ferocious  maniac  than  a  human  being,  a-ul 
at  the  iiKJinent  he  was  more*  fitted  to  l)ecomo 
the  shackled  inmate  of  a  ma-i-hoiise  than  tho 
awe-struck  woman  whom  h('(lenounc(>d.  Even 
Mrs.  Pinkley,  trained  and  accustomed  as  slia 
had  biH'u  to  scenes  of  nproar  and  confusion  in 
such  places,  became  fearful.  She  could  feel 
collected  and  indiU'erent  when  she  heard  (lie 
ravings  of  a  disonh-red  intellect  in  an  asylum, 
but  siie  could  not  witness  this  wild  ungovern- 
able fury  of  u  sane  man,  and  hp  too  one  of  the 


\4  ■  s 


^'^ 


^■ 


68 


EXETER  HALL. 


ll  !»•«■» 


11  *.!HI 

ir::!; 


1%^ 


114: 


■■*.r 


called  and  ordained  preachers  of  the  Gospel, 
•without  a  shudder.  Yet  slie  could  excuse 
this  excess  of  zeal  on  the  part  of  the  modera- 
tor. Tiie  determined  contumacy  of  a  self-opini- 
onated woman  was  very  provoking  ;  he  was 
a  preacher  of  truth,  and  Mrs.  Pinkley,  as  long 
as  Gotl  spared  her,  would  be  always  an  hum- 
ble iipholder  of  that  principle. 

She  followed  the  reverend  doctor  from  the 
room.  She  no  doubt  thouglit  it  her  duty  to  try 
and  soothe  away  his  anguish;  his  passion  was 
too  great  to  allow  him  to  remain  with  safety 
in  the  presence  of  her  whom  he  detested.  His 
anger  might  have  led  him  to  commit  some 
act  of  violence  which  would  cause  publicity, 
and  this  he  dreaded  more  than  any  other 
result.  Doctor  Marks  felt  .relieved  when  he 
saw  him  leave  the  wretched  chamber  and  its 
helpless  inmate  ;  she,  poor  unfortunate  !  was 
weeping,  and  her  pitiful  sobs  were  an  irresisti- 
ble appeal  to  his  better  nature.  He  was,  how- 
ever, strictly  orthodox,  and  was  ready  to  doubt 
the  sanity  of  any  pi^rson  who  professed  to  disbe- 
lieve even  themostmythicalstory  of  the  Bible, 
but  he  could  not  persecute.  The  insight  he  had 
just  obtained  of  the  moderator's  character  and 
motives  did  not  exalt  the  latter  in  his  estima- 
tion, and  as  he  had  been  requested  to  como 
there  for  a  professional  purpose  he  now  prompt- 
ly decided  how  it  was  best  to  act  under  tlie 
circumstances. 

Mrs.  Pinkloy's  returning  steps  could  be 
lieard  ;  there  was  not  a  moment  to  spare. — He 
hurriedly  whispered,  "  Leave  this  i)lace,  sub- 
mit for  the  present,  and  I  will  see  what  can 
be  done  for  you." 

It  was  long  past  midnight  when  the  cab 
drove  quickly  away  with  Mrs,  Pinkley,  and 
the  doctor's  wife,  and  a  coarse-iooking  man, 
in  whose  pockets  something  like  keys,  or 
liandcnfFs  rattled  as  ho  entered  the  v(.'lufle. 
In  a  short  time  afterward.  Doctor  Marks  and 
the  moderator  left  the  desolate  house.  They 
were  seen  by  Robert  and  Sam,  making  their 
way  along  the  dark  s|)hishy  streets  through 
the  wind  and  rain,  and  it  was  with  a  fbcsling 
(if  disappointment  that  these  watcher.s  had  to 
r<.-tire  for  the  niglit  without  being  able  to  do 
more  then  than  avow  their  determination  to 
make  a  discovery  as  soon  as  possible. 


.'T", 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


The  red  lion  which  hung  outside  the 
tavern  bearing  that  name  could  scarcely  be 
H'cu  next  morning  throngli  the  heavy  fog 
wliich  enveloped  every  object.  Masts  on  tlx* 
Tluimes,  huge  buildings,  royal  and  ciiiscopal 
jialaccH,  and  ambitious  steeples  were  but  dim- 
ly visible,  and  iiedestrians  as  they  hurried  on 
occuHionally  jostled  eacli  other  in  a  very  uncere- 
mo'iious  manner.  The  red  lion,  crowned  and 
rampant  as  he  lookfnl  in  the  briglit  sunsliine, 
now  appeared  rather  subdued  ;  and  tlie  large 
drops  which  accumulated  on  his  bron/ed  si(l<'s 
fell  with  patt(.'ring  sound  on  the  ])avcinent, 
being  occusionally  intercepted  iiy  the  heads, 
great  and  snuill,  of  early  strei't  itloddcrs.  The 
goftd-nntuivd  landlord  sat  smoking  a  long  clay 
pip^'  near  tlie  tap-njom  door,  anil  as  he  now 


and  then  looked  up  with  pride  at  the  dripping 
representative  of  his  house,  ho  had  often  to 
smile  at  the  manner  in  which  the  said  lion 
administered  spiritless  drops,  so  diflerent  from 
the  more  reviving  ones  contained  in  the  circle 
of  bellied  and  painted  kegs  which  stood  around 
h'm,  like  sturdy  little  bacchanalians  awaiting 
his  orders. 

The  Red  Lion  tavern  was  one  of  the  oldest 
established  places  : "  its  kind  in  London.  Gen- 
eration after  generation  had  crossed  its  thresh- 
old, stood  on  its  sanded  fli)or,  and  had  par- 
taken of  the  generous  cheer  for  which  it  was 
famed.  Even  up  to  this  period,  it  had  kept 
pace  with  the  times,  and  its  good  ale  and 
tender-loins  could  not  be  suqiassed  within  the 
bounds  of  that  old  city.  It  was  a  peculiar  re- 
sort ;  although  generally  frequented  by  the 
middle,  or  rather  by  the  intelligent  tradijig 
and^working  classes,  yet  authors,  professors, 
and  occasionally  a  stray  waif  of  nobility,  might 
be  seen  to  enter.  For  the  tradition's  of  the 
houso  had  it,  that  more  than  once,  at  irregular 
intervals  of  relaxation  or  revelry,  the  highest 
in  the  land  drank  in  its  cozy  parlor,  and 
looked  on  the  Thames  through  the  diamond 
panes  of  its  great  bay  window.  And  good  John 
Hollis,  th(!  present  landlord,  would  point  with 
pride  to  the  stout  arm-chair  Avhich  held  the 
last  scion  of  royalty  that  honored  his  house  ; 
and  it  would  l>e  a  favor  indeed,  were  you  per- 
mitted to  drink  out  of  the  "  King's  cup,"  a  cut 
and  flowered  glass  tumbler,  which  more  than 
once  had  touched  the  lips  of  a  certain  Prince 
Regent,  who  had  afterward  become  '.*The 
Lord's  anointed  "  as  "  George  the  Fourth." 

To  a  person  of  leisure,  who  wished  to  hear 
the  news  of  the  day,  or  make  short  excursions 
through  the  city  from  a  central  point,  the  Red 
liion  was  the  spot.  Not  only  was  it  well  sup- 
plied Avith  city  and  provincial  papers,  but  it 
could  boast  of  an  excellent  library,  which  was 
enlarged  from  time  to  time  by  gifts  of  rare  and 
scientilic  books  from  its  generous  patrons.  And 
works  treating  on  the  merits  of  the  state 
church,  and  popular  theology,  which  were  pro- 
scribed from  the  shelves  of  respectable  Chris- 
tian booksellers,  could  here  be  found  to  satisfy 
the  curious,  stimulate  investigation,  and  ex- 
pose pretension.  Adjoining  tlu)  library  was  a 
large  room  in  whii.'h  giu'sts  could  meet ;  and 
frieiuUy  discussion,  mostly  on  iiolitics  and  n'li- 
gion,  might  be  often  heard  from  an  early  hour 
in  the  atternoon  until  late  at  ii'ght. 

Close  to  a  front  window  in  that  room, 
and  looking  deuiundy  into  the  fog  that  half 
hid  the  ranqmnt  lion,  sat  Samuel  Styles; 
he  was  thinking  of  the  events  of  the  ])ast 
night,  and  si-ciued  in  monu-ntary  doubt  and 
confusion  as  to  tlu'  i-eality  of  the  dreary  in- 
cidents of  that  pcM'iod.  And  though  he  knew 
but  little  as  yet  either  of  the  truth  or  falsehood 
of  what  he  had  heard  Dr.  Ihister  relate  concern- 
ing his  wife,  still  he  was  strongly  susjiicious 
that  all  was  not  right.  From  the  moment  ho 
laid  eyes  on  the  reverend  doctor,  he  took  an 
instinct  ivedislik(^  to  him  ;  he  had  not  yet  seen 
Mr.  Mannois,  whom  Robert  held  in  such 
estc'  Ml  ;  but  he  heard  him  alluded  to  iiMlieiiig 
an  "inl^unous  character,"  and  he  hiid  also 
heiird  l>r.  Huster  r.ttribnte  insnnity  to  his  own 
wife,  on  account  of  her  religious  opinions,  and 


po^- 

to 

circi 

In 

stud 

ofd 

o 

in 

Yu, 

dish 

gem 

Gos 

grei 

tioii 

and 

the 

f  UK 

Ids 
wa>j 

BUlil 

he 

WHf^ 

trav 

hge 

<nil 

for 

fror 

cert 


EXETER    HALL. 


m 


Iripping 
often  to 
'aid  lion 
eiit  from 
lie  circle 
[1  around 
xwaiting 

le  oldest 
)n.  Gen- 
8  tliresli- 
had  par- 
li  it  waa 
lad  kept 

alo  and 
ithin  the 
culiar  re- 
1  by  the 

tradijig 
rott'SsorB, 
,y,  niifrht 
18  of  the 
irregular 

0  highest 
rlor,  and 
diamond 
^ood  John 
oint  with 

held  the 
is  house ; 
!  you  por- 
up,"  a  cut 
iiore  than 
in  Prince 
uio  '.»The 
turth." 
■d  to  hear 
'xcnrsions 
t,  the  Red 
well  sup- 
ers, but  it 
vhich  waa 
if  rare  and 
rons.  And 
the  state 
were  pro- 
hie  Chris- 

1  to  satisfy 
1,  and  ex- 
rnry  was  a 
Uf'ot ;  and 
8  and  reli- 
oarly  hour 

liat  room, 
that  half 
!•;    styles; 

till!  ]iast 
Uinht  and 
dreary  in- 

lie  knew 
r  falsehood 
teconci'rn- 

HUS|iicioll8 

iioment  he 
e  took  an 
»t  yet  seen 
I  in  such 
to  iiMlu'iiig 
hiid  also 
to  Ills  own 
iiii.iUH,  and 


threaten  her  with  an  asylum.  And  now,  as  he 
believed  that  threat  had  been  carried  into 
effect,  it  forcibly  reminded  him  of  a  similar  case 
of  persecution  that  had  lately  been  exposed  in 
his  own  country.*  lie  felt  a  glow  of  indigna- 
tion, and  as  he  was  an  ardent  lover  of  fair 
play,  and  had  time  and  means  at  his  disposal, 
he  determined  to  see  justice  done,  and  if  pos- 
sible rescue  an  opprei^sed  woman  from  the 
clutches  of  an  unfeeling  pri(!st  and  sanctimo- 
nious tyrant.  lie  made  up  his  mind  that 
when  Robert  called  that  day,  to  go  with  him 
to  Mr.  Alaunors,  and  i-eveal  all  to  him  ;  then, 
after  a  >udden  thought,  he  snatched  at  his 
pocket  and  drew  from  it  the  i)ai)er  which  fell 
from  the  hands  of  the  reverend  moderator 
under  the  archway,  and  which  Robert  had 
picked  ui>. 

Samuel  Styles,  or  rather  as  he  chose  to  call 
hijnself  "  Sam  Styles,"  was  an  enthusiastic  na- 
tive American,  as  proud  of  his  country  and  of 
the  "  glorious  Stars  and  Stripes,"  as  ever  Briton 
was  of  the  Red  Cross  or  Union  Jack,  lie  was, 
according  to  his  own  account,  "  raised"  on  a 
farm  iu  Pennsylvania,  and  having  lost  his 
parents  at  an  early  age,  entered  a  priuting- 
otlice  in  Philadelphia,  wliere  he  remained  for 
two  or  three  years.  He  was  very  sober  and 
industrious  ;  and  during  one  of  the  great  reli- 
gious excitements  which  periodically  occur  in 
that  city  of  gospel  palaces  and  celestial  ambas- 
sadors, he  got  converted  and  joined  the  church, 
and  being  estci^med  for  his  sincerity  and  zeal, 
was  appointed  a  tract  distributor  ;  his  district 
in  the  city  being  varied  occasionally  from  the 
streets  known  as — 

"  Chestnut,  Waluut,  Spruce,  and  Pine, 

to 

Mulberry,  Cherry,  Kace,  and  Vine." 

Having  proved  faithful  in  this  respect,  he 
was  afterward  called  upon  by  a  wealthy 
evnngi'lical  society  to  fill  the  more  important 
pos'  1  Ion  of  c()li)orteur,  at  a  fair  salary,  and  sent 
to  dispos(!  of  Bibles,  and  Testaments,  and  to 
circulate  other  i'  liglous  books  in  the  country. 
In  this  capacity,  ae  visited  several  jjlaces  and 
stu(ll(.'d  the  elfects  of  religion  upon  the  minds 
of  different  classes,  from  the  slow  '  ahorujiiiea  " 
(I  Cape  May  to  the  more  enterprising  and 
ill  Uigent  natives  of  Pennsylvania  and  New- 
Yoi  And  whether  it  was  that  he  became 
diss  isfied  with  his  own  elt'orls,  or  that  the 
general  ideas  of  those  must  wedded  to  the 
(rospel  were  not  sulhciiintly  liberal  and  pro- 
gressive, he  grew  discontented  with  his  voca- 
tion and  resigned.  And  while  he  left  Moses 
and  till'  i)rophets  to  grope  their  way  auKiiig 
the  uuregcnerate  as  best  they  could,  he,  being 
fund  of  ailventure,  coinineiiced  business  "on 
his  (twn  hoolv"  luid  traveltid  with  horse  and 
wagon  from  State,  to  State,  as  th(^  vender  of 
email  wares  and  fancy  articles.  After  a  time 
he  became  a  (h)iil)i'  t  in  matters  of  faith;  he 
was  surprised  In  tiud,  that  wherever  he 
traveled,  a  large  majorUy  of  the  most  iiitel- 
lig(!nt  ])ersons  were  skeptii-s  or  downright 
iiiibelievers,  and  hiiving  fimud  a  great  demand 
for  those  liberal  bo(»ksr<o  regularly  di'nouiiced 
from  the  pulpit,  nnd  so  formally  condemned  by 
certain  leaihns  of  the  preus,  lie  added  them  to 

•  Mr«  Packard's,  of  Illinoli. 


his  stock,  and  became  an  active  agent  for  the 
circulation  of  secular  and  spiritual  journals. 
For  so  doing,  he  met  with  many  reproofs, 
received  some  insults,  and  was  more  than  once 
threatened  by  respectable  church-members 
with  personal  injury.  But  Samuel  Styles  was 
not  the  man  to  be  intimidated,  and  while 
governed  by  his  own  free  thoughts,  he  would 
come  to  no  decision  on  any  question  of  impor- 
tance until  he  had  heard  both  sides  ;  and  now, 
being  as  strong  in  his  opposition  to  the  popu- 
lar faith  as  he  was  truly  sincere  while  a  be- 
liever, he  felt  it  his  duty  to  try  and  counter- 
act that  which  he  had  once  striven  to  propa- 
gate. Like  most  of  his  countrymen,  he  was  a 
great  reader  ;  but  not  of  the  trashy,  sixpenny 
literature — as  greedily  devoured  in  the  United 
States  as  pea-nuts  or  painted  candy ;  he  was 
well  informed  on  general  subjects,  great  on 
statistics,  and  in  argument  was  prepared  to 
defend  his  position  with  obstinacy.  When 
asked  for  the  cause  of  his  apostasy,  he  would 
state  that  the  prevailing  cupidity  of  Gos|)el 
ministers,  who  claimed  and  received  exorbi- 
tant salaries,  was  the  first  matter  which  caused 
him  to  reflect.  While  a  boy,  forced  like 
others  to  attend  a  Sunday-school,  and  wearied 
with  the  endless  routine  of  texts  and  cate- 
chism, hymns  and  prayers,  none  of  which  he 
could  truly  understand,  a  minister  would  at- 
tend at  Slated  periods,  and  after  having  given  a 
lecture,  would  make  the  application  result  iu 
forcing  the  boys  to  give,  as  a  voluntary  con- 
tribution, the  few  i)enc(!  they  might  have 
accumulated  as  pocket-money.*  Thus  after 
he  had  grown  up  and  joined  the  church,  he 
found  one  great  systematic  method  for  colle<r- 
tion.  Cash  was  reipiired  for  the  minister's 
fund,  for  a  church  fund,  for  a  building  fund, 
for  a  missionary  fund,  and  for  a  superannuat- 
ed fund.  There  was  a  fund  for  Bibles,  and  a 
fund  for  tracts,  a  fund  for  special  matters,  and 
one  for  general  purposes  ;  and  it  sinmied  to 
him  like  one  concerted  shout  from  ])ulpit  and 
platform,  of  "  give,  give,  give,  eternally  give." 
And  the  rich  gave  of  tluur  wealth,  and  the 
poor  of  their  poverty  ;  and  still  the  reverend 
))ensioner8  cried  for  more,  until  tlu^y  made 
Christianity,  in  this  respect,  the  most  oppres- 
sivi^  and  expensive  system  in  the  world. 

Then  in  the  churches  were  held  tea-raeet- 
ings  and  soirees,  fairs  and  festivals,  pious  lot- 

*  In  {renonil,  children  are  very  reluctant  to  attend 
Sundiiy-scliools,  and  still  more  so  to  j^ive  uj)  tiicir 
sc'aiity"sui)i)ly  of  i)ocket-inoney ;  but  by  tlie  |)i'cnii;ir 
l)n!Hsiire  iil'  tlie  *' voluntary  "  system,  tlie  money  i* 
()l)tained,  as  niiiy  l)e  inierred  tVoiu  Uio  I'ollowiiiL,'  i)ai-a- 
Sirnph  talveu  from  a  Philadelpliia  i)ai)er  of  Sold.  2j, 
IWiti : 

"A  MissioNAiiY  Vesskl.— On  Saturdnylast.  at  Hos- 

ton.  a  vessel  ealled  tlio  Moniiiit:  Star  was  liiiiiuln!d 

i  ill  tlie  prescnee  of   ,5000  si)ectators.     She  cosi  f2!l.0(H), 

and  was  paid  lor  entirely  from  the  ( (nitribtitioiis  of 

I  Sunday-sehool  ehildrcn  in  about  WM)  Suiiday-sel.oolu 

I  in  (lillenmf,  parts  of  the  world.    'I'lii-  vessel  is  lo  '  y 

lltted  out.  bv  the  Missionary  Hoard  at  IIoMolulii  in  ilie 

Saiidwieh  Islands,  and  is  lo  be  eii^,'aL;ed   wholly  in 

I  missionary  work." 

I      Who  can  liclieve  that  "Sunday-scliool  clilldrefi"  ever 

]  deliberately  planned  this  unwise  expciidiliiiu  in  their 

.anxiety   for    the    conversion  of   Honolulu   licalheii? 

1  This  i)i-iestly  sehenn'  produced  the  desii'ed  cxi'itement, 

liowever;  liv('  ibcus.iiid  wiljiessed   the  (liflplay--lhiil 

waste  for  IJonoliilu  ;  \\liile  l"lie  jjriesls  have  LTood  re.i- 

Bon  to  believe  that,  in  the  winter,  neeessiiy  may  drivu 

more  than  live  iboiisMud  of  the  IJoston  poor  shiverin;; 

to  their  hard  Dcdu.— Author, 


.1  M 


k 


70 


EXETER    HALL. 


•nf' 


•:,^ 


VI 


h 


i^ 


1^)"  lii>r 


f  •  .Ji 


teries  and  religious  revels,  in  which  fushion 
and  flirtation  liad  full  sway  ;  •\vhoro  minis- 
terial potentates,  who  lorded  it  over  the  reason 
and  consciences  of  their  adherents,  were  noted 
for  making  a  peculiar  distinction  between 
those  who  had  much  to  give  and  those  who 
had  not ;  and  where  the  ])riest,  who  formally 
preached  humility  and  the  vanity  of  wealth, 
was  too  often  worshiped  as  the  god  of  the 
temple,  ever  ready  to  receive  the  rich  gifts  of 
Lis  votaries.  Samuel  Styles  saw  these  things, 
and  found  that  Christianity  instead  of  being, 
as  it  strangely  claimed  to  be,  a  despised  thing, 
was  in  fact  a  haughty  power,  pampered  by 
rulers,  and  regal  in  wealth  ;  an  authority  that 
could  exalt,  or  depose,  or  persecute. 

But  what  of  the  Bible,  once  the  idol  of  his 
soul,  the  centre  of  his  hopes  and  aspirations, 
revered  and  worslii^ied  by  millions  trained 
to  its  belief?  A  book,  or  collection,  by  whom 
written,  or  when,  or  where,  none  could  deter- 
mine ;  teeming  with  contradictions  and  absur- 
dities ;  in  conflict  with  science,  reason,  and 
liumanity  ;  a  fearful  record  of  crime,  lust,  and 
brutality ;  depicting  a  divine  Being  as  govern- 
ed by  the  basest  of  human  passions,  full  of 
wrath,  and  hurling  destruction  on  the  fallible 
beings  Avhom  ho  had  created.  A  horde  of 
sects  professed  to  be  guided  by  its  maxims, 
and  these  have  been  notably  exhibited  in 
mutual  persecution  ;  and,  like  the  Bible,  al- 
most every  page  of  their  acts  and  records  is 
sprinkled  witli  blood. 

These  discoveries  were  painful,  and  sugges- 
tive of  deep  reflection  ;  then  followed  a  strict 
investigation,  and,  like  many  others  who  have 
yielded  reluctantly  to  conviction,  Samuel 
Styles  at  last  becanuj  an  unbeliever. 

After  a  time,  and,  contrary  to  the  predictions 
of  many  of  the  faithful,  his  circumstances  bo- 
came  much  improved.  He  had  a  genius  for 
invention,  and  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  patent 
for  two  or  three  very  dib^irailar  articles,  the 
sale  of  which  ])laced  him  in  a  good  position. 
By  his  straightforward  intercourse  among  the 
people,  he  earned  a  good  reputation  ;  and 
though  many  doubted  his  orthodoxy,  yet  no 
one  doubted  his  word.  lie  was  intelligi'ut, 
humorous,  and  communicative,  and  in  his  fre- 
quent sojourninga  was  u  weli;ome  visitor  to 
many  a  rural  homestead.  And  it  often  hap- 
pened that  while  trading  among  settlers  in 
the  far  West,  he  was  entertained  at  the  same 
board  with  tlie  traveling  preacher,  whom  ho 
generally  managed  to  draw  into  a  friendly 
discussion — thus,  as  he  said,  "casting  his  bread 
upon  the  waters."  When  the  rebellion  broke 
out,  he  joined  the  Union  army,  was  wounded 
at  i.Ianassas,  and  after  having  remained  in 
Ivospital  for  a  long  jjcriod,  his  health  being 
much  impiiired,  was  honorably  discharged. 

For  his  restoration,  he  decided  to  risk  a  sea- 
voyagi!.  In  his  younger  days,  on  the  "glori- 
ous Fourth  of  July"  he  hud  heard  declama- 
tory onilions  agiiiust  Britain,  but  he  could  re 
Hist  l)re■^u(^u•e  ;  lie  kncv/  that  she  was  a  mo- 
ther of  nations,  th(>  parent  of  his  own,  and  the 
progenitor  oi'  Furo|)('an  lilxn-ty.  And  though, 
as  a  rei)ul)lican,  he  believed  that  that  great 
country  was  terril.Iy  blighted  by  ils  roval 
goviTuniiiit  and  state  church,  yet  he  syni'pa- 
tliized  with  the  pluck  and  froo  spirit  of  its 


common  people — the  true  nobility  of  the  hind. 
After  due  preparation,  he  left  New  York  for 
"  the  birthplace  of  his  grandfather  ;  "  and 
the  only  relation  he  as  yet  found  was  liobert, 
his  cousin. 

Samuel  still  stood  at  the  window  of  the 
Red  Lion  tavern  looking  intently  at  the  paper 
he  had  drawn  from  his  pocket,  and  cs  he  gazed 
at  the  cramped  words,  they  seemed  to  move 
about  and  arrange  themselves  into  curious 
forms.  He  saw  the  fierce  features  of  iJoctor 
Buster,  then  the  outline  of  a  pleading  woman, 
then  again  they  changed  to  the  shape  of  a 
heavy-barred  window  ;  and  while  trying  to 
peer  into  the  darkness  of  a  cell,  and  just  as  he 
imagined  he  could  discern  some  dim,  wither- 
ing form  in  its  depths,  the  words  resumed 
their  places,  and  he  again  read  "  A.  M.  North 
street,  near  Jewish  cemetery." 

"  Darn  me  if  that  an't  strange  ;  if  my  oy§8 
were  spirit  mediums,  they  could  not  have 
changed  that  writing  better  ;  all  there !  bars 
and  bolts  and  Doctor  Buster  to  boot."  He 
turned  the  paper,  looked  at  both  sides,  then 
held  it  from  him,  and  then  aside,  as  if  it  were 
a  veil  or  screen  which  hid  some  object  from 
his  view.  "  Yes,  these  are  the  words,  words 
that  may  give  me  a  clew.  I'll  try  and  un- 
ravel them,  and  if  I  have  to  hover  about  the 
Jewish  cemetery  as  a  medium  or  resurrection- 
ist, I  may  disentomb  some  critter  either  dead 
or  alive.  I'll  try  hard,  and  if  the  great  doctor 
feels  spiritually  inclined,  and  calls  upon  mo,  I'll 
answer  that  call  with  such  a  rap  as  will  make 
him  feel  like  being  in  the  very  centre  and  em- 
brace of  a  corkscrew  thunderbolt." 

Having  thus  soliloijuized,  and  while  leisure- 
ly folding  the  paper,  his  attention  was  called 
by  shouts  and  hooting  almost  immediately 
across  the  street.  He  could  just  distinguish 
a  number  of  persons  outside  a  shop  door ;  a 
carter  was  unloading  some  pieces  of  furniture, 
and  two  or  three  piTsons  in  otticial  costume,' 
like  policemen,  were  superintending  the  de- 
livery. A  motley  gathering  stood  around,  and 
as  ])iece  after  piece  was  shoved  into  the  build- 
ing, the  jabbering  crowd  gave  a  shout,  and  one 
voice  louder  than  the  rest  cried  out, 

"  Och  !  huccess  to  tluj  'stablishmint,  divil  a 
scrimmage  we'd  have  on  the  ould  sod  at  all 
'it  all  widout  it ;  sure,  it  keeps  the  boys  bu.sy  ; 
and  the  ]'arsons,  and  peelers,  and  hangmen 
makes  a  fine  livin  out  of  it."  Then  there  was 
a  loud  laugh,  another  shout,  and  the  pestered 
oflicials,  who  really  api)eared  ushanuMl  of  their 
work,  made  a  show  of  threats.  Then  the  voice 
cried  again, 

"  Arrah  !  that's  right,  nu\ke  the  Imythins  be- 
have themselves,  keep  away  wid  ye,  sell  'em 
out  bed  and  blanket ;  sure,  the  divil  must  have 
his  due."  Shouts  and  laughter  again  fol- 
lowed, and  there  were  more  threats;  but  it 
was  all  in  vain,  big  and  little  remained,  and 
save  the  jeering  and  occasional  shout,  no  inter- 
ference was  ollered.  The  furniture  was  stow- 
eil  away,  the  nior*;  orderly  of  tlu;  nsseinblago 
had  entered  the  shop,  and  Sam,  l^iaving  his 
curif)Kity  excited,  cros.'^ed  tlu;  stneeji  to  see 
what  was  going  on.  He  looked  in  from  tlie 
doorsti'p,  and  near  a  corner,  close  to  where 
some  hou.sehold  articles  were  piled,  he  saw 
five  or  six  members  of  the  society  of  Friends, 


EXETER    HALL. 


n 


commonly  called  "  Quakers."  There  they 
stood,  with  the  utmost  gravity  and  decorum, 
and  the  majority  of  those  inside  seemed  to 
regard  them  with  deference.  Some  proceed- 
ing was  about  to  take  place  in  which  an 
interest  was  manifested,  and  while  many  out- 
side were  vehemently  discoursing,  the  expres- 
sions, "  national  church,"  and  "  national  curse, " 
could  be  heard  most  often ;  those  within  kept 
tolerably  still.  In  a  few  minutes,  a  kind  of 
beadle  or  tithing-man  stepped  upon  a  platform. 
Hp  "-as  a  stout,  coarse-looking  fellow,  evidently 
weii  adapted  for  his  business  ;  he  leisurely  took 
from  his  pocket  a  paper,  and  having  spread  it 
before  him  on  a  desk,  glanced  first  at  the  at- 
tendant Friends  in  the  corner,  and  then  with 
stolid  indifference  at  the  upturned  faces  of 
those  around  him.  After  a  preliuiinary  cough, 
ho  lifted  the  document,  which  was  a  kind  of 
distress  warrant  or  execution  for  tlie  non-pay- 
ment of  church  rates,  and  said,  "  I  have  hero 
authority  from  the  church  wardens  of  this 
parish  to  offer  for  sale  at  public  auction  t'l"^ 
goods  and  chattels  of  Mary  Wilkins  and 
others,  for  the  non-payment  of  lawful  rates 
due  to  the  reverend  rector ;  and  now  unless 
the  cash  is  paid,  Avith  costs,  forthwith,  I  shall 
commence.     Well,  what  do  you  say  ?" 

He  paused,  there  was  no  reply  ;  but  a  heavy 
Bob  was  heard  from  one  poor  woman  who 
with  bent  head  stood  clutching  the  handle  of 
a  little  trunk  which  was  placed  on  a  table  be- 
fore her. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  in  haste ;  I'll  just  give 
you  five  minutes  to  think,"  said  he,  chucking 
out  his  big  silver  watch,  "  five  minutes  to  pay 
the  legal  dues  of  the  church." 

He  then  coolly  stuck  his  thumbs  in  the  arm- 
holes  of  his  waistcoat,  and  began  to  whistle 
to  himself  unceremoniously  while  he  kspt  time 
with  his  foot  on  the  platform. 

"  Friend,  thee  need  not  delay  on  our  account. 
We  do  not  recognize  tliy  claim  to  be  just ;  we 
neither  enter  tlu!  church  nor  hear  the  parson  ; 
therefore  we  have  no  right  to  pay.  Thee  must 
enforce  thy  unjust  tax  ;  the  society  of  Friends 
in  England  will  never  submit  to  thy  legal  ex- 
tortion.    Thee  hast  seized,  and  thee  may  sell." 

"  Bravo  !"  cried  one  :  and  a  murmur  of  ap- 
probation was  heard  around.  The  beadle  was 
getting  nettled,  and  hastily  replied  :  "  Oh !  you 
broad-l)rimmed  chaps  are  very  particular,  very 
conscientious.  The  church  is  there  for  you, 
and  if  Quakers  won't  go  near  it,  that's  their 
own  fault.  If  you  want  to  go  to  heaven  your 
own  way,  why,  then  you  must  pay  for  it.  If 
you  arc  so  chock  full  of  tlio  Gospel  as  to  resist 
the  law  year  after  year,  the  same  law  will  just 
as  surely  prosecuti\"  A  hiss  could  now  be 
hoard  over  the  place.  A  i)oliceman  called  out, 
"  Order  1"  and  the  irritaic>d  b(!adle,  with  a  "  Here 
goes  1"  snatched  up  the  little  trunk,  and  placed 
it  on  a  stand  before  him. 

"I  have  here,"  said  he,  looking  at  his  war- 
rant. "  a  claim  against  Mary  Wilkins  of  one 
sliilling  and  eight-pence  for  church  rates,  and 
half  a  crown  for  costs  ;  giv(>  me  a  bid  for  this," 
and  he  tossed  al)out  the  trunk,  making  its  con- 
tents rnttle.  It  was  locked,  and  he  ajji^lied  his 
big  thunil)  to  the  hasp  to  try  if  it  would  give 
way.  "  How  much  for  this?  SIh!  has  the  key, 
and  won't  let  us  see  the  contents.     I'll  lay 


there's  something  good  in  it,"  said  he,  with  a 
chuckle,  and  giving  a  peculiar  wink  at  one  of 
the  policeman.  "  What  do  you  say  fo'-  this 
trunk  and  its  contents,  no  matter  if  it  holds 
Bank  of  England  notes  ?" 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  sobbing  woman,  turn- 
ing a  pleading  look  toward  the  audience, 
"  there's  nothing  in  it  but  my  dead  boy's 
clothes,  some  of  his  school-books,  and  other 
things  of  no  value  to  any  one  now  but  my- 
self. He  made  that  little  trunk  for  me,  and  it's 
all  I  have  belonging  to  him."  She  was  a 
widow,  and  had  lost  her  only  child. 

"  Come,  give  mo  a  bid  ;  how  much  for  this 
— clothes,  books,  bank-notes  and  all  ?" 

Yet  no  bid  came,  the  suppressed  feelings  of 
all  present  scarcely  let  a  sound  louder  than  a 
whisper  be  heard;  and  as  the  poor  Avoman  stood 
silently  weeping,  with  head  still  bent  and  her 
hands  upon  her  face,  even  the  rough  crowd 
turned  toward  her  many  a  pitying  eye,  some 
of  which  were  already  brimful  of  tears. 

"  Can  I  hear  no  bid,  not  one  bid  for  this  ? 
then  if  you  don't,  I  shall  have  to  give  one 
myself.  Forbes,"  said  he,  turning  to  one  of 
the  policemen,  "  can't  you  do  something  for 
the  church  ?    Just  start  this." 

The  man  thus  appealed  to  only  shook  hia 
head,  as  if  his  heart  and  emotions  were  all 
the  other  Avay.  There  was  another  pause,  the 
beadle  looked  perplexed ;  the  woman  stood 
close  by,  and  her  sobbing  was  heard,  as  if  her 
sobs  alone  could  now  sufficiently  plead  her 
case,  or  protest  against  the  wrong. 

"  I  will  give  thee  a  bid  for  that  poor  wo- 
man," said  one  of  the  Friends,  moving  toward 
the  beadle. 

"  No,  you  don't,  I  guess,"  said  a  strange  voice  ; 
the  people  turned  around,  and  Samuel  Styles 
was  seen  elbowing  his  Avay  manfully  through 
the  crowd ;  he  soon  reached  the  desk,  and  lay- 
ing hold  of  the  little  trunk,  and  giving  a  comi- 
cal look  at  the  beadle,  said,  "  Well,  old  stingo, 
Avhat  do  you  want  for  this  ?" 

The  act  was  performed  so  quickly  and  with 
such  nonchalance,  that  the  beadh;  himself  stood 
looking  in  gaping  wonder  at  this  assurance, 
and  the  aft'air  had  such  a  ridiculous  aspect 
that  the  general  laugh  which  followed  almost 
completely  disconcerted  the  church  official. 

"  Give  you  a  dollar ;  guess  that's  about 
right,  an't  it,  eh  ?  " 

I  don't  know  any  thing  about  your  Yan- 
kee dollars,"  said  the  beadle,  now  plucking 
up,  having  discovered  his  man  ;  "  if  you  say 
a  British  crown,  and  no  other  bid,  'tis  yours ."' 

"  Can't  .give  you  a  Yankee  one  anyhow  ; 
guess  we  lum't  got  such  trinkets  on  the  other 
side  of  the  mill-pond ;  if  there  Avas  tewer 
crowns  round  these  diggins,  there  might  bo- 
more  money,  and  pour  occupation  avouUI  bo 
gone,     NoAV  an't  that  strange  '{" 

The  gruff  beadle  Avas  in  no  mood  for  argu- 
ment;  no  other  bid  AA'as  giv(>n,  and  Sam  be- 
came tho  purchaser  of  the  little  trunk  for  a 
"crown."  He  immediately  restored  the  poor 
Avoman  her  property  ;  she  was  full  of  grat(!ful 
expressions,  and  the  audienci!  npplauded  so> 
loudly  that  the  crowd  greatly  increased,  and 
thos.i  Avho  passed  along  the  street  Avondered. 
at  the  sudden  acclamation. 

Order  being  restored,  the  sale  again  com- 


[ll 


72 


EXETER    HALL, 


"■•■'* 

:     .Hi'.-. 


it 


^^ 


I 


* 

'      ■,  ,5- 


menced  ;  ono  hy  one  of  tho  pfoods  nnd  chat 
tela  ot  the  Friends  waa  thi;n  put  uj),  but  (quick- 
ly purcluised  by  their  owners  tor  just  sufficient 
to  pay  the  clerical  or  parochial  demand  aj^ainst 
th(;m.  The  society  of  Friends  have  ev«>r  re- 
sisted, and  still  continue  to  resist  the  iniqui- 
tous claim  for  tithes  or  church  rates,  and  the 
annual  formality  of  such  a  conscientious  pro- 
test is  still  to  be  witnessed,  and  still  the  pious 
and  legal  atrocity  is  as  regularly  consummated 
in  free  old  England. 

Samuel  Styles  had  now  witnessed  one  eflect 
of  the  practical  workings  of  tho  British  State 
Church ;  a  degrading  instance  of  clerical  ex- 
tortion and  rapacity.  lie  felt  the  most  litter 
disgust  at  such  a  vile  resort  to  plunder  a  com- 
munity, and  he  was  amazed  to  think  that  the 
intelligence,  civilization,  and  freedom  of  that 
great  country  should,  at  tho  present  day,  sub- 
mit to  such  infamous  oppression.  But  he  did 
not  consider  at  the  time  how  the  masses  in 
Britain  have  struggled  against  i)riestly  power, 
or  how  the  great  minds  of  the  nation  have 
declaimed  against  such  usurpation.  He  did 
not  then  remember  that  that  terrible  incubus 
on  the  resources  of  the  country — tho  State 
Church — was  shleldetl  by  a  royal  and  aristo- 
cratic influence  which  was  almost  absolute ;  and 
that  that  influence,  by  its  potency  and  wealth, 
still  controlled  Parliament ;  still  thrust  its 
mercenary  bishops  in  the  House  of  Lords ;  and 
still  degraded  British  legislation  before  the 
■world,  by  leaving  unrepealed  among  its  sta- 
tutes authority  for  ecclesiastical  monopoly, 
a  code  of  laws  partial,  arbitrary,  and  unjust.* 

Dwelling  on  these  things,  ho  wandered 
moodily  along  tho  street,  and  crossed  Water- 
loo bridge  with  the  intention  of  going  to 
Hampstead.  Ho  went  on,  and  soon  found  him- 
self in  front  of  a  large  brick  building,  before 
■which  a  number  of  stylish  vehicles  wer*! 
drawn  up.  It  was  Exeter  Hall ;  scmie  one  of 
its  great  public  meetings  was  in  progress; 
people  Avere  yet  going  in,  and  he  felt  half  dis- 
posed to  follow.  For  many  years  he  had 
heard  of  this  great  arena  wdierc  lib(>rty  had 
been  proclainu-d  to  many,  but  where  others 
were  drawn  into  bondage ;  where  the  shackles 
of  the  slave  were  broken,  but  where  the  hu- 
man mind  was  bound  by  fetters  of  a  'ifl'erent 
kind,  and  led  into  servility. 

While  standing  here,  lio  was  sur))risod  at 
the  evidences  of  wealth  and  poverty  which 
met  his  eye  ;  the  contrast  was  extrenu;.  Aris- 
tocratic eqni])age8  jjassing  and  repassing, 
coachmen,  footmen,  and  postillions,  laden 
with  rich  lace  and  heraldic  trappings  were 
seen  in  every  direction  ;  while  at  tiie  siiine  time 
could  be  observed  the  sunken  ey(^  and  hoMow 
cheek  of  numerous  wretched  and  forlorn  crea- 
tures, who  were  listlessly  lingering  around,  or 
moving  here  and  tlua'e  lik(i  passing  shadows 
through  the  glittering  crowd,  lie  wasinipre.-s- 
ed  by  the  great  difl'erencedf  circumstances,  and 
was  trying  to  philosophize  uprtn  a  remedy, 
when  his  attention  was  directed  to  a  movement 
of  the  [leopUi  who  luid  been  standing  idly  about 
the  great,  hall.  Policemen  wen;  l)usy  trying 
to  get  th<;  loiteren'  to  stand  aside,  a  lane  was 
Boon  formed,  and  pri.oontly  a  stately  equipage 

*  Seo  Note  E. 


moved  slowly  away  from  tho  building  and 
turned  toward  the  Strand.  As  it  came  along, 
the  jiolicemen  raised  their  hats  (hiferentially  ; 
it  was  evident  that  mw  of  the  numerous  great 
personages  of  liOndou  was  i)resent,  and,  upon 
inquiry,  Samuel  was  informed  that  it  was  tho 
"  Lord  Bishop  of  London,"  a  great  name  there. 
He  liad  just  presidc^d  at  some  meeting  in 
which  the  church  was  interestcnl,  and  as  that 
great  and  humble  "successor  of  the  ajjot-tles" 
was  wheeled  away  after  his  arduous  duty,  ho 
was  followed  In  formal  and  regular  order  by 
the  principal  and  nunor  grades  of  metropoli- 
tan clergy,  who,  although  less  splemlidly  con- 
voyed, y<!t  gave  palpabh*  evidence  to  the  poor 
and  hungry,  who  looked  wistfully  at  the  dis- 
I)lay,  that  to  many  "  tiodliness  is  great  gain," 
ev(ui  in  this  wicked  world. 

Satisfied  in  his  own  mind  with  this  convic- 
tion, and  ^v^ule  attracted  by  the  long  line  of 
moving  splendor,  his  eyes  rested  up<m  a  cleri- 
cal vehicle  of  a  different  kind.  In  a  neat  car- 
riage drawn  by  a  pair  of  fine  horses  were 
four  persons,  two  young  ladies  in  front,  one 
of  whom  was  driving,  and  behind  sat  a  lady 
and  gentleman.  The  ladies  were  richly  dress- 
ed, the  gei\tleman  was  in  8])otless  clerical 
black,  and  was  a  distinguished  and  popular 
preacher.  He  was  blandly  smiling  to  some 
whom  ho  recognized  ;  and  while  his  heavy 
features  seemed  distorted  by  a  continued  un- 
natural eftbrt  to  wear  a  smile,  Sam  caught  at 
a  glance  the  cold,  soulless  eye  of  Dr.  Buster. 
Even  there,  in  the  bright  sunlight,  in  tho 
midst  of  Favorable  surroundings,  seated  by 
fa.^hion,  and  in  the  hurly-l)urly  of  actual  life 
and  business,  there  was  in  that  look  some- 
thing that  gave  even  to  Sana  a  momentary 
doubt  of  his  own  resolution.  Were  he  alone 
and  possessed  of  treasure,  he  would  not  like 
to  meet  such  a  countenance  in  a  desolate  place. 
But  see !  the  features  relax,  the  smile  is  gonQ, 
there  is  a  frown,  and  suddenly  a  scowl  of  hate, 
which  the  doctor  as  suddtnily  hurled  into  the 
benevol(Mit  face  of — Martin  MaiuK^rs. 

Sanmel,  following  tho  direction  of  the  doc- 
tor's eye,  saw  Robert  at  a  few  yards  distance ; 
he  was  driving  a  small  neat  vehicl(^  and  by  his 
side  sat  a  pw'son  whom  he  innnediately  took 
to  be  Mr.  Manners,  and  Avho  had  his  calm  eye 
unflinchingly  fixed  upon  the  lowering  features 
that  already  seemed  to  shrink  and  witlu-r  be- 
neath his  mild  but  steady  gaze.  Tlu^  doctor 
had  thus  unt^xpecti'dly  met  one  for  whom  his 
dri'ad  had  generated  a  di.-adly  hate  ;  h(.i  hur- 
riedly reachetl  over  and  struck  one  of  tho 
horses  with  his  cane,  ami  as  they  rushed  on- 
ward \w.  made  some  frivolous  excuse  to  tho 
ladies  about  becoming  nervous  in  a  crowded 
thoroughfare. 

"  There  he  goes,"  said  Robert,  looking  after 
them,  "  there  goes  a  saint  lus  I  hojio  to  see 
elevated  lU'arer  heaven  one  of  these  days." 
And  Kaying  this,  he  quickly  -uid  significantly 
wound  the  end  of  his  whip-lash  around  his 
own  neck.  He  nf)W  ol)serv(;d  Sam  who  stood 
close  by,  and  was  glail  they  had  met.  "  This 
is  my  cousin,  sir,  this  is  Yank(!e  Sam,  s"r,  all 
the  way  from  America — a  wildisli  chap  in  his 
way." 

Mr.  Manners  was  much  i)leaaed  to  mec-t  Ro- 
bert's friend ;  ho  had  heard  of  him,  and  of  tho 


EXETER   HALL. 


^ 


n/T  and 
e  ttl<»n«f, 
ntially  ; 
18  great 
n\,  upon 
was  tlio 
10  tlierc. 
tinfj  in 
as  that 
jot-tles" 
liity,  lio 
order  by 
etiopoli- 
dly  con- 
the  poor 
tlie  dig- 
it gain," 


adventure  of  the  precedinp  night.  He  gave 
him  an  invitation  to  Hainpstead,  and  made  him 
protnise  to  call  there  with  Robert  the  next 
day.  Ho  was  now  on  his  way  to  town,  and 
might  not  return  before  night.  A  few  remarks 
were  then  made  about  the  unexpected  meet- 
ing they  had  just  had  with  Dr.  Bnster.  Mr. 
Mannors  said  but  little,  yet  there  was  a  mean- 
ii  j:  in  his  look  that  could  not  be  misunder- 
Biood. 

After  they  had  driven  away,  Sam  felt  in  a 
rambling  mood  ;  ho  was  quite  inditferent  as  to 
his  course,  and  walked  through  several  streets, 
often  stopping  before  gorgeous  shop-windows 
to  look  at  the  rich  goods  and  splendid  wares 
exhibited,  then  halting  to  guess  the  dimen- 
sions of  some  immense  church  or  public  build- 
ing. He  loitered  near  gardens  and  wealthy 
mansions  ;  then  in  a  park,  and,  going  on  still 
further,  got  in  the  neighborhood  of  an  old 
churchyard.  It  was  not  a  cemetery  on  the 
modern  plan  ;  it  was  a  crowded  acre  or  two  in 
the  midst  of  dwellings,  like  some  of  those  he 
had  had  seen  in  Philadelphia — charnel-places, 
which  are  yet  allowed  to  pollute  the  air  of 
that  city.  The  burial-ground  in  question  was 
inclosed  by  an  iron  railing  and  surrounded  by 
some  squat-looking  buildings,  and  tall  lod- 
ging houses ;  and  even  there,  at  short  distances, 
were  places  where  strong  liquors  and  London 
stout  could  be  had  ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  prox- 
imity of  these  resorts  to  the  dead  often  induced 
mourners  to  test  the  oblivious  qualities  of 
such  liquids. 

Outside  of  one  of  these  places,  some  distance 
up  the  street,  and  nearly  in  front  of  the  prin- 
cipal gate  of  the  cemetery,  a  great  number  of 
persons  were  asstsmbled ;  others  camo  on  every 
moment ;  some  remained  near  the  gate,  while 
many  \Vent  into  the  graveyard.  Anxious  to 
see  what  was  going  on,  Sam  hurried  to  the 
place;  the  crowd  was  getting  larger  every 
moment,  and  boys  clung  to  the  iron  railing ; 
while  oihers  were  busy  climbing  such  lamp- 
jyosts,  or  trees  as  would  afford  a  view.  Think- 
ing some  great  funeral  was  expected,  he  asked 
a  by-stander,  a  plain  looking  workman,  if  such 
was  to  be  the  case ;  the  man  at  once  replied, 
"  Xo,  it  beant  no  funeral.  We  had  one  here- 
abouts yesterday — Tom  Jones's  child — there's 
the  grave  yonder,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the 
cemetery.  The  end  of  the  little  mound 
could  be  seen,  and  close  to  it  stood  the  father 
and  a  number  of  men  armed  with  sticks  and 
clubs — a  resolute  dare-devil  set,  that  were 
ready  to  bid  diiliance  to  law  or  gospel. 

"  Now,"  continued  the  man,  "  Tom  is  a 
Methodee,  and  the  i)arson  don't  like  such,  and 
says  'cause  the  child  wasn't  baptized,  it  shan't 
lio  there." 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  they're  going 
to  take  it  up  again  ^" 

"  Y'es,  that's  it,  they're  coming  hero  to-day, 
coming  now  to  do  it.  The  parson  is  high- 
church — a  high-llyer — and  wants  that  bit  of 
pasture  lor  his  own  Hock.  See,  here  they 
come — damn  them  !" 

Another  crowd  was  now  moving  down 
toward  the  churchyard,  but  neither  the  so- 
called  "high-flyer"  nor  hia  expected  assis- 
tants could  be  st-en.  It  was  another  funeral ; 
the  aged  mother  of  one  of  the  parish  work- 


men had  died,  and  they  brought  her  body  to 
the  old  resting-place  for  interment,  and,  as  she 
had  been  some  kind  of  Methodist,  several  said 
that  bringing  her  there  would  be  the  cause  of 
more  trouble.  For  some  yuars  past  a  sect  of 
Methodists  called  "  Ranters  "  had  been  estab- 
lished in  certain  districts  of  the  city — a  sect 
very  plain  in  its  way,  but  very  noisy  and  up- 
roarious in  its  religious  demonstrations.  Its 
members  were  almost  entirely  belonging  to 
the  poorer  working  class,  which  great  mission- 
ary societies  in  their  anxiety  for  the  conver- 
sion of  foreign  heathens  had  overlooked.  Now, 
the  Ranters  looked  upon  the  pretensions  of 
the  church  with  great  indifference  ;  and  the 
church,  or  at  least  the  high-church,  still  as- 
suming control  over  the  souls  of  English  sin- 
ners, claimed  to  dictate,  and  would  not  allow 
an  unbaptized  thing  to  moulder  side  by  side 
with  "  the  faithful ;"  nor  should  any  who  had 
left  the  bosom  of  the  church  for  a  conventicle 
find  interment  in  a  parochial  grave,  unless  the 
formal  burial  service  was  read  at  the  place  by 
an  authorized  minister.  No,  the  churcli  could 
never  for'jet  its  authority. ;  it  would  still  hurl 
its  legal  anathemas,  and  deny  to  the  foul 
weeds  of  dissent  Christian  burial  in  "  con- 
secrated ground."* 

The  funeral  now  arrived  at  the  gate ;  the 
bearers  were  ordered  to  halt ;  a  line  of  con- 
stables stood  across  the  entrance,  and  a  cler- 
gyman with  a  very  little  head,  very  little 
eyes,  and  a  very  large  nose,  pompously  warn- 
ed the  intruders  to  keep  off.  He  held  a  folded 
surplice  on  one  arm,  and  flourished  the  other 
with  clerical  determination.  A  numlxjr  of 
other  constables  kept  moving  about,  and  mat- 
ters looked  serious ;  some  were  for  an  imme- 
diate resort  to  force,  while  others  advised  a 
more  peaceable  method.  The  bearers  now 
lowerec^  the  coffin  on  the  pavement,  and  one 
of  the  relaiivcs  asked  that  permission  might 
be  given  to  bury  the  deceased  in  the  same 
place  where  her  husband  and  two  of  her  chil- 
dren had  been  laid  years  before.  But  the 
parson  was  inexorable  ;  none,  he  said,  should 
have  the  privilege  of  burial  in  that  place  but 
deceased  members  of  the  church  ;  those  who 
resisted  its  authority  should  be  as  the  heathen 
and  the  publican.  The  body  of  every  scliis- 
matic  found  in  that  churchyard  should  be 
disinterred,  and  buried  where  they  ought  to 
be  —  in  the  c(unmon  highway.  Yells  and 
groans  followecmhis  rei)ly  ;  a  hundred  indig- 
nant faces  could  bo  seen  around,  and  al- 
ready some  were  collecting  stones  and  other 
missiles  for  a  pitched  battle.  One  or  two  per- 
sons, however,  seemed  to  have  control,  and  an 
old  workman  stood  ujion  the  coHin,  and,  after 
having  called  the  attention  of  all  present,  said : 

"  Friends,  wo  uU  know  that  this  is  an  un- 


*  Porhnps  ono  of  the  latest  spocimens  of  this  kind 
of  clerical  iiitnlorniico  in  exhibited  in  the  follow- 
iiitr,  from  an  i'^iutlifii  paper  — the  London  Nalionai 
Ufformer :  "Tlio  Uev.  Mr.  Mirelumse,  Hector  ot  Ool- 
Hterworth,  lias  l)een  displaying  his  ChriHtian  eliarlty 
liy  refusinij;  to  bury  a  diild,  li'ecaiiso  it  had  not  been 
Ijiiptized  at  his  eHtal)lisinuent,  hut  liad  Imd  its  sins  re- 
mitted at  the  Wesleyan  Cliapel.  Wlien  tlie  funerai 
procession  arrived  at  tlus  dnirch,  the  giites  were  iocli- 
ed,and  it  was  not  until  tlie  niotlu'r  of  Ww.  cliild  lUinted 
in  the  street  that  this 'Christian  tcentleiiian  and  hu- 
mane man'  allowed  Ihcfuucrulto  enter  the  '  cousccrut- 
ed'  ground." 


m 


fV    '■': 


74 


EXETER    HALL. 


it 


1^" 


%!>»» 


■I;.. 


K 
w 


christian  proceedinfj ;  we  know  that  there  is 
no  relipfious  equality  yet  in  this  land  ;  much 
as  we  may  boast  of  our  free  laws,  there,"  said 
he,  pointing  down  to  the  coffin,  "is  an  evi- 
dence of  their  partiality,  and  some,  as  we  now 
see,  would  have  no  equality  oven  in  the  jrrave. 
But  it  matters  not  where  this  poor  body  be- 
neath my  feet  is  lo  be  hidden,  whether  in  a 
field  or  highway,  neither  does  it  matter  what 
is  said  over  her  remains.  I  may  not  live, 
friends,  to  see  it,  but,  remember,"  said  lie, 
h)wering  his  voice,  "  there's  a  good  time  com- 
ing, and  England  will  yet  be  free.  I  would 
now  advise  that  if  the  clernyman  permits  us 
to  bury  the  body  here,  her  irlcnds  shall  con- 
Bent  to  allow  the  'church  service  '  v^,  1«  lead, 
and  so  end  further  trouble." 

After  some  contention,  this  prudent  advice 
was  followed  ;  it  was  a  triumph  for  the  church. 
The  minister,  after  a  show  of  hesitation,  con- 
sented, and  in  a  few  moments  afterward  he 
was  heard  in  sonorous  tones  consigning  to 
the  grave  "  the  body  of  our  deceased  sister." 
and  slie  was  thus  laid  in  the  same  earth  with 
her  mouldering  relatives. 

While  this  ceremony  was  taking  place,  and 
while  most  of  those  present  stood  around  the 
grave,  the  constables  formed  a  circle  about 
that  of  the  child,  two  men  tossed  aside  the 
mound,  and  commenced  to  disinter  the  body. 
These  proceedings  were  not  noticed  for  some 
tim(! ;  but  soon  word  was  passed  from  one  to 
another,  and  the  incens(!d  father,  followed  by 
a  hundred  others,  rushed  upon  the  constables, 
and  in  less  than  a  minute  three  or  four  of 
them  were  bleeding  profusely,  and  the  two 
men  who  had  been  digging  at  the  grave  were 
leveled  to  the  earth  and  shouting  for  nu>rcy. 
Sticks  and  stones  were  flying  in  all  directions  ; 
one  fellow  was  seen  tramping  furiously  on 
the  minister's  liat,  while  another  tore  his 
surplice  into  ribbons.  The  parson  however 
was  strong  in  the  faitli,  and  thmigh  pressed 
back,  step  by  step,  by  the  reckless  crowd,  he 
feared  no  mob,  but  continued  to  urge  tlie 
police  to  support  his  authority.  At  this 
juncture,  some  one  with  truer  aim  than  the 
rest  flung  a  large  sod  at  the  head  of  his 
reverence,  and  he  was  seen  to  tumble  back- 
ward across  the  little  grave  which  had  been 
alnsady  violated  by  his  orders. 

The  scene  at  this  time  was  one  of  great  con- 
fusion ;  yells,  oaths,  throats,  and  even  blows 
were  still  heard,  just  as  if  a  legion  of  demons 
had  been  let  loose  among  the  tombs,  'i'he 
constal)l(>s  were  powerless,  their  main  effort 
now  seemed  to  be  to  protect  the  minister ; 
but  their  help  to  him  would  have  been  ofi 
little  avail,  were  it  not  for  the  old  workman 
who  had  spoken  at  the  gate,  and  a  few  others. 
The  parson  was  with  some  difflculty  dragged 
away  from  the  place,  the  constables  rtjtircd, 
but  the  crowd  remained,  and  the  triumph  this 
time  was  with  the  peoph;.  Samuel  Styles,  wlio 
had  witnessed  the  whole  proceedings,  was 
now  thoroughly  disgusted  ;  he  had  often  heard 
and  read  of  similar  scenes,  but  ho  hud  no  idea 
that  siK^i  clerical  intolerance  would  be  at- 
tempted in  lOngland  at  that  period  of  tlic 
nineteenth  century.  lie  had  now  sin-n  enougli 
of  it  in  one  day  to  last  him  for  life;  and  a 
rumor  having  spread  that  the  constables  would 


return  with  reenforcements,  ho  left  the  "con- 
secrated ground  "  and  i)lac(;  of  contest.  That 
night,  while  sitting  in  the  largo  room  of  the 
lied  Lion,  the  princijial  theme  was  the  innate 
tyranny  of  priestcraft. 

Early  next  morning  the  papers  teemed  with 
conflicting  accounts  of  the  jmjceedings  at  the 
cemetery  ;  and  journals  in  the  interest  of  the 
church  comnu'uted  vehemently  on  the  savage 
outrage  which  had  been  perpetrated  by  a 
heathenish  mob  against  a  "  defenseless  ser- 
vant of  (iod."  There  was  no  word  of  extenu- 
ation in  these  religious  ])apers  for  the  outraged 
feeli.^.gs  of  the  people,  ('lerical  correspondents 
suggested  that  some  immediate  action  must 
be  taken;  a  lino  of  demarkation  should  bo 
drawn  in  every  cemetery  to  distinguish  the 
"  faithful "  from"  dissenters.  Some  argued  that 
a  dividing  wall  should  be  built  in  eadi  church- 
yard, others  thought  a  hedge  might  answer, 
while  othera  would  be  content  with  a  gravel 
walk  ;  it  would  be  quite  sufficient  to  enable 
all  to  distinguish  wlun-e  lay  those  who  had 
been  blessed  by  England,  or  cursed  by  Rome, 
damned  by  dissent,  or  saved  by  the  State 
Church. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Mr.  CAPETi  had  been  absent  several  days, 
and  had  visited  every  station  on  the  circuit. 
In  his  missionary  wanderings,  lie  traveled 
through  a  picturesque  country,  rich  in  land 
scape  scenery,  reminding  him  of  the  rock  and 
river  and  mountain  of  his  native  land.  He 
passed  by  pleasant  meadows,  where  lazy  cattle 
fed  and  rested,  scarcely  moving  at  his  ap- 
jiroach.  He  rod(;  through  shaded  lanes,  fra- 
grant from  hawthorn  blossoms  on  I'ither  side; 
then  by  some  qiuiint  old  place  which  had 
given  a  page  to  iiistory ;  by  little  brooks  and 
shining  rivers ;  by  woodman's  cottage,  nest- 
ling among  trees  ;  and  then  he  wound  around 
some  grassy  hill-slope,  towering  above  which 
might  bo  seen  a  lioary,  crumbling  castle, 
crouching  under  the  sheltering  ivy,  as  if  wait- 
ing for  the  final  stroke  of  time.  Yet,  attractive 
as  these  would  have  been  to  him  at  other 
times,  ho  scarcely  glanced  at  the  magnificent 
grouping  ;  he  was  in  deep  thought,  thinking 
of  what  he  had  lately  read  ;  and  during  his 
a1)straction,  the  liorse  walked  slowly  along, 
often  even  stopping  to  pluck  at  the  fresh 
grass  which  gnnv  by  the  road-side.  Now  and 
then  he  would  arouse,  and  urge  his  beast 
onward ;  he  would  look  around  foi"  some 
object  on  which  to  feast  his  eye,  in  order  to 
ri(l  himself  of  doubts  and  harassing  specula- 
tions ;  but  Avhile  seemingly  intent  un  some  pic- 
ture of  rtistic  sceiu>ry,  or  at  tlu^  commingling 
of  shadow  and  sunlight  beneath  the  rough 
branches  of  sonu^  old  oak,  he  would  relapse 
again,  and  again  his  thoughts  would  wander 
away,  away,  far  from  their  wonted  track,  and 
then  return  but  to  transform  into  hideous 
iimigcs  the  ideas  which  he  once  considered  so 
iair  and  bi'MUtilnl. 

It  was  only  when  he  was  aciively  engaged 
among  the  iieoph;  to  whom  he  was  sent  that 
he,  in  a  measure,  got  rid  of  this  eml)arrass- 
meut ;  and  he  applied  himself  perseveringly. 


EXETER    HALL. 


# 


!  "con- 
That 
of  the 
innate 


He  tried  to  obtain  a  fair  knowledffo  of  the 
wants,  wishes,  and  mental  status  of  the  peo- 
])lo  among  wliora  lie  was  destined  for  a  time 
to  labor.  He  was  very  punctual  in  his  minis- 
tration ;  preached  once,  and  often  twice,  each 
day,  and  was  diligent  in  the  performance  of 
his  otlier  duties.  For  the  time,  he  devoted 
himself  very  assiduously  to  these  matters,  and 
tried  hard  to  think  of  little  else,  He  found 
Methodism  there  much  like  what  it  was  in 
Ireland ;  but  the  people  were  rather  more  de- 
monstrative in  their  religious  extjrcises,  ac- 
cepting the  peculiarities  of  their  creed  as 
pure  gospel,  and  rarely  ever  doubting  the 
])ropriety  of  any  rite,  doctrine,  or  exposition 
bearing  the  sanction  of  the  revered  Wesley. 
Indeed,  the  credulity  of  some  would  have 
approved  of  any  absurdity,  provided  it  had 
his  indorsation,  thus  acting  like  thousands 
who  continue  to  pin  their  faith  to  the  sleeve 
of  others. 

Mr.  Capel  kept  busy ;  every  suitable  mo- 
ment was  one  of  industry.  He  wished  to 
ascertain  the  state  of  religion  ou  the  circuit ; 
to  know  the  state  of  every  class,  and  the  quali- 
.'ication  of  every  class-leader  ;  was  particular 
to  learn  who  were  the  most  exemplary  mem- 
bers ;  gave  a  word  of  encouragement  to  some, 
and  a  suitable  rebuke  to  T>ackslider3.  But 
ah  !  the  thought  then  came,  Who  was  it  that 
might  yet  reljuke  him?  Even  here,  among 
the  few  who  had  once  been  faithful,  there 
stepped  aside  out  of  the  beaten  track  daring 
skeptics.  He  bad  heard  of  this,  and  felt  alarm- 
ed lest  even  he,  the  preacher,  should  yet  fol- 
lo\V  them  in  their  terrible  descent.  Still  he 
worked ;  he  did  not  want  to  think ;  he  had 
l)eeu  near  the  preci[)ice,  and  had  just  looked 
over  its  dreadful  brink,  and  shrunk  back,  as  if 
fearful  that  some  sudden  impulse  would  urge 
him  to  destruction. 

For  nearly  a  week  ho  thus  struggled  with 
the  mutiny  of  his  own  thoughts— thoughts 
that  would  obtrude  thoniselves ;  frighu'ul 
forms,  whicli  he  tried  to  hurl  into  oblivion. 
But  the  trial  came  at  lust ;  he  could  be  ac- 
tive during  the  day,  he  could  then  form  sagu 
resolutions  to  cling  forever  to  the  ark  in  which 
so  great  a  number  had  found  refuge,  and 
which  had  borne  him  tlius  far  througli  storm 
and  sunsliine  so  safely  and  pleasantly.  He 
would  pray  more — would  urge  the  Lord — 
would  assuredly  find  the  promised  help,  would 
find  more  strength  to  resist,  and  more  determi- 
luxtioii  to  follow  on  in  the  narrow  way,  with- 
out looking  to  the  riglit  hand  or  left,  until  he 
attained  "  eternal  life."  Thus  it  was  with  him 
in  the  busy  daytime  ;  but  then  came  the  night 
— night  again,  with  its  shadows — not  a  time 
for  him  of  quiet  contemplation  or  calm  repose, 
but  a  season  for  wild  conjectures  and  fevered 
dreams,  and  for  alternate  feelings  of  hope  and 
despair.  Now,  again,  came  those  thoughts 
which  one  by  one  sought  to  rob  him  of  sonui 
treasured  idea,  some  glittering  little  idol  that 
h(i  wor.-ihipod  from  infancy.  Why  was  ho 
troubled  thus,  why  douljtful  of  the  Word  of 
Life  V  ('ould  he  not  be  content  with  eviilciices 
ajul  assurances  that  had  satisfied  a  \Vesloy, 
a  Wlutefield,  a  Clark  or  a  Paley  V  He  had  read 
and  re  read  tlieir  learned  expositions,  and  now 
by  such  aid  he  sought  to  banish  those  obtru- 


sive fancies  vhich  kept  him  restless  and  wa- 
vering ;  Ijut  tiio.se  expositions,  once  considered 
so  lucid  and  fjatlsfactory,  had  now,  alas!  for 
him,  degenerated  into  mere  assumptions,  or 
speculation.  He  had  all  his  life  been  heariag 
and  reading  one  side  of  a  history,  and  had  but 
just  glanced  at  the  other  side,  to  find  that 
that  structure,  the  erectum  of  which  had  ta- 
ken centuries,  was  already  crumbling  to  ruins. 
He  would  lie  awake  thinking  of  his  conversa- 
tions with  Mr.  Mannors,  of  the  history  of 
Christianity,  of  its  rapacity  and  perse'-  .cion  ; 
of  Romish  and  English  popes,  txnC  of  their 
respective  state-churches  ;  of  the  wealth  and 
blood  that  had  been  expended  to  secure  their 
estal)llshment,  and  of  the  salaried  armies  of 
bishops,  priests,  and  preachers  yet  required  to 
keep  the  world  from  relapsing  into  paganism. 

Against  this  array,  Science  had  now  lifted 
its  mighty  arm.  Reason  was  boldly  assert- 
ing its  rights,  while  Truth  was  silently  point- 
ing to  the  throne  from  which  it  bad  long  been 
excluded  by  an  usurper.  There  was  the  "  In- 
spired Word"  which  he  had  been  taught  to 
revere,  »nd  which  had  for  centuries  been  held 
in  awe  by  multitudes,  now  treated  by  the  in- 
telligence of  the  age  as  a  myth.  The  "  sa- 
cred" narrative  had  been  subjected  to  impious 
criticism,  and  its  assertions  tested,  like  those 
of  any  other  book,  by  Reason  and  Philosophy. 
How  had  it  stood  the  test  ?  Thousands  had 
thrown  it  aside  as  worthless.  Should  he  do 
so,  might  he  not  make  a  fatal  mistake  V  Ho 
was  taught  to  believe  that  the  greatest  attain- 
ment of  reason  was  to  know  that  there  was 
an  infinity  of  knowledge  beyond  its  limits. 
Might  not  this  knowledge  be  centred  in  the 
Biijle,  and  might  not  erring,  presumptuous 
man  misinterpret  its  teachings?  But  why 
misinterpret? — why,  if  written  for  man's 
guidance  and  instruction,  should  it  be  so  con- 
tradictory to  reason  ? — why  should  it  so  bewil- 
der both  wayfaring  man  and  philosopher? 
Ho  had  expressed  to  Mr.  Mannors  a  will- 
ingness to  investigate  the  Bible,  and  he 
had  scarcely  commenced  before  he  became 
startled,  and  was  almost  ready  to  recede.  Ho 
had  already  discovered  enough  to  leave  him 
in  a  lal)yrinth  of  doul)t  and  perplexity. 

He  found  that  +liero  was  no  evidence  to 
show  that  the  books  said  to  have  been  written 
by  Moses  were  ever  penned  by  him  ;  on  tho 
contrary,  there  was  tho  most  conclusive  proof 
within  their  own  pages  to  establish  that  they 
were  tho  production  of  othpr  persons,  hun- 
dreds of  years  after  the  death  of  their  reputed 
author !  Had  they  been  written  by  Moses, 
they  could  have  contained  no  descrii)tlve  ac- 
count of  his  own  death  and  burial ;  they  would 
not  have  been  written  in  the  third  person,  as, 
"  The  Lord  said  unto  Moses — "  "  Moses 
said  unto  the  people  ;"  nor  would  he  have  re- 
ferred to  himself  in  tlie  fulsome  terms  mention- 
ed in  Numbers,  12th  chapter,  3d  verse: 
"  Now  the  man,  Moses,  was  very  meek  above 
all  the  m(>n  which  were  upon  the  face  of  tho 
earth."  But  the  most  positive  evidenco 
against  the  assumption  that  Moses  was  tho 
writer  is  the  numerous  anachronisms  which 
occur.  Moses  is  made  to  relate  in  tho  pdst 
teiixe  events  which  did  not  happen  in  his  life- 
time, uur    indeed    for    centuries    afterward. 


'.  \ 


76 


EXETER    HALL. 


\\l 


I 


■«vr' 


'1 


i." 


!.• 


"  k 


Tlie  poor  pica  can  not  bo  made  that  ho  was 
speaking  j)rophttirally  ;  it  is  a  i)h\in  rehition 
of  occurrt-nces,  said  to  liave  taken  ])lace 
provi'.ms  to  the  time  of  their  record.  In  the 
l4vh  chaptcsr  of  GenewiB,  there  is  an  account 
cf  how  ]jf)t  was  taken  prisoner  in  battle  and 
carried  of!',  and  that  Abraham  and  liis  follow- 
ers marclied  to  rescue  liini,  and  followed  his 
captors  as  far  as  lJ(t)i.  Now  there  was  no 
place  known  as  Dan  ii.  the  Bible  until  over 
300  years  after  the  reputed  ileath  of  Moses  ; 
consequently,  it  would  be  as  absurd  to  state 
tliat  Moses  mentioned  such  a  ])lace  as  it  would 
be  to  assert  that  a  writer  of  Shakespeare's  time 
had  mentioned  an  incident  <if  Waterloo. 
Thus,  concerning  the  burial  of  Moses,  the 
writiT  states,  "  And  he,  buried  him  in  a  valley 
hi  the  land  of  Moab,  over  ajjainst  B«!th- 
peor ,  but  no  man  kuoweth  of  his  sepulchre 
unto  tJiis  day." 

"And  there  arose  not  a  prophet  since  in 
Israel  like  unto  Moses." 

The  3(Jth  chajjter  of  Genesis  fjives  the  fjene- 
ahijxy  of  the  descendants  of  Ef-au  called 
"  Edomites,"  and  a  list  of  these  kings  ;  and  the 
Slst  verse  .'^ays,  "And  these  are  the  kings  tliat 
reigned  in  Edom  before  there  reigned  any  king 
over  the  children  of  Israel."  Tliese  i)assages 
could  not  have  been  written  by  Moses.  The 
latter  verse  must  have  been  written  at  least 
after  the  time  of  David;  there  weii  no  kinf/ft 
in  Israel  in  the  days  of  Moses,  c  (luently 
the  writer  of  that  particular  ]ms>age  must 
have  lived  in  the  time  of  King  David,  or 
during  a  subsequent  reign  ;  for  if  at  this  j)res- 
ent  day  a  writing  without  date  should  be  dis- 
covered, and  which,  in  speaking  of  past  events, 
should  say  that  such  and  such  an  occurrence 
took  jdace  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria, 
the  inference  as  to  the  writer  would  of  course 
be,  that  he  lived  and  wrote  aj'ttr  her  acces- 
sion. 

These  texts,  then,  are  proof  positive  that 
Moses  was  not  the  writer;  that  they  either 
must  be  interpolations — whicli,  to  get  rid  of 
thedifficulty,  some  would  admit — or  the  whole 
book  is  an  anonymous  tradition  of  absurd- 
ities. 

\Vith  regard  to  the  other  books  said  to  have 
been  written  by  Most-s,  similar  evidence!  can 
be  had  in  abundance,  to  i)rove  he  was  n(jt  the 
writer.  In  Exotlus,  IGth  chajjter,  and  fJoth 
verse,  it  is  said:  "And  the  children  of  Israel 
did  eat  manna  forty  years,  until  they  came  to 
a  land  inhabited ;  they  did  eat  manna,  until 
they  came  unto  the  borders  of  the  land  of  Ca- 
naan." As  this  account  extends  beyond  the 
life  of  Moses,  it  is  plain  that  he  could  not 
have  related  it. 

The  curious  instance  in  Deuteronomy,  3d 
chapter,  verse  11,  sliows  the  fabulous  notions 
which  prevailed  at  the  time.  One  conctu-niug 
a  race  of  giants  says  :  "  For  only  Og,  king  of 
Uashan,  remained  of  the  remnant  of  giants; 
behcjld  his  bedstead  was  a  bedstead  of  iron,  is 
it  not  in  IJabbath  of  the  children  of  Aninmu'.' 
nini!  cubits  was  the  length  thereof,  and  four 
cubits  the  breadth  of  it,  after  tbe  cubit  of  a 
man." 

According  to  this  measurement,  the  bed- 
stead was  over  16  feet  in  length,  and  more 
than  seven  feet  wide.     This  singular  relation 


could  not  have  born  made  by  Moses,  for  ho 
knew  nothing  of  Habbath,  nor  of  what  was 
in  it.  It  was  not  a  city  owned  by  this  giant. 
The  knowledge,  then'fore,  that  this  bi'dstead 
was  at  l{abbath,  and  the  i)articulars  of  its  di- 
mensions, must  be  referred  to  the  iieriod  when 
Kahbath  was  taken,  which  was  not  until  400 
years  aft<'r  the  death  of  Moses,  according  to 
2d  Samuel,  12th  chajiter,  2(lili  verse:  "And 
Joal)  fought  against  Ihibbath  of  the  children 
of  Amnion,  and  took  the  royal  city."  News 
was  then  sent  to  King  Davhl ;  and  the  29th 
verse  says  that  "  he  gathered  all  the  ])eoplo 
together,  and  went  U)  liabbath  and  I'oiight 
against  it  an<l  took  it ;"  and  then,  after  rul)bing 
the  king  of  his  crown,  and  sacking  the  city, 
a  j)roof  of  King  David's  lovingkimlness  and 
tender  mercy  toward  the  miserable  inhabi- 
tants is  given  in  the  JlOtli  verse  : 

"And  ho  brought  forth  the  people  that 
were  therein,  and  ])ut  them  under  saws,  and 
under  harrows  of  iron,  and  under  axes  of  iron, 
ami  made  them  pass  through  the  brick-kiln  ; 
and  thus  did  he  unto  AI.i,  the  cities  of  the 
children  of  Ammon.  So  David  and  the  peo- 
ple returned  to  Jerusalem." 

If  such  infamous  brutalities  could  possibly 
meet  the  ajiproval  of  a  merciful  'iod,  it  must 
have  been  the  savage  and  revengeful  Deity  of 
the  Jews,  not  the  mori;  Iiuinand  and  consider- 
ate Clod  of  the  Gentiles. 

The, same  objections  t'lat  are  urged  against 
the  cA'dibility  of  the  books  of  Moses,  or  the 
Pentateuch,  also  appear  against  the  book  said 
to  have  been  written  by  Joshua,  as  well  as 
against  many  other  of  the  strange  books  which 
comoose  tlu^  Bible.  In  the  24th  chapter,  29th 
and  following  verses,  he  is  made  to  give  an 
account  of  his  own,  death  and  burial,  and  of 
events  which  followed. 

An  astonishing  fact  respecting  the  books 
of  Moses  shows  that  the  first  certain  trace 
of  the  Pentateucli  in  its  present  form  was 
when  one  Ililkiah,  a  priest,  said  he  had  found 
the  book  of  the  law  in  the  house  of  the  Lord. 
This  discovery  is  said  to  have  been  made  as 
hue  as  024  years  before  Christ.  The  iinding 
caused  a  gri'at  sensation.  The  alarmed  mon- 
arch, King  Jo.siah, "  rent  his  clothes,"  went  to 
the  temi)le,  and  read  "  all  the  words  of  the 
hook  ;■'  and  a  great  reformation  immediately 
commenced.  It  is  evident  that  if  these  books 
of  Moses  had  been  iireviouxly  known  to  the 
Jews,  they  would  n(jt  have  nuinifested  such 
surprise  and  ahirni  ni)on  their  discovery  by 
Ililkiah.  That  discovery  stands  \\\im\  his  mere 
assertion.  He  might  have  written  "the  book 
of  the  luw"  himself,  or,  if  there  were  any 
ancient  recor<1s  that  he  knew  of,  he  might 
have  made  sucli  alterations  as  he  pleased  ;  it  is 
livident,  howevt  ' .  iluit  at  that  i>eri(jd  there  was 
but  o/ic  copy  of  the  law  in  existence,  the  va 
lidity  of  which  dei)ended  entirely  upon  the 
veracity  of  this  priest.  The  story  is  to  Ikj 
found  in  the  ;54th  chapter  of  2d  Chronicles. 

Ili're,  therefore,  appears  a  strange  contradic 
tion.  \^'e  are  told  in  Jllst  chai)ter  of  Deuter- 
onomy that  iiltout  14^)0  years  before  (^hrist, 
wlu'ii  Moses,  it  is  said,  made  an  end  of  writing 
the  words  of  the  law  in  a  book,  hts  said  to  the 
Leviteri,  "Take  this  book  of  the  law  and  put 
it  in  the  side  of  the  Ark  uf  the  Covenant  of  the 


8,  for  lio 
liiit  ^vaB 
iw  };innt. 
IndstL'ad 
of  its  di- 
>n\  when 

I  lit  11400 

•'  And 
children 

News 
the  29th 

e  jK'oplo 

d  I'oiiyht 

rohbiug 

the  city, 

II  OSS  and 
inhabi- 

)lo    that 

iiAvs,  and 

■s  ( )f  iron, 

•ick-kiln ; 

•8  of  the 

the  peo- 


EXETER    HALL. 


popsibly 

,  it  niuBt 

1  Deity  of 

cimsider- 


•d  against 
ic^»,  or  the 
book  said 
is  well  as 
oks  whicli 
;liter,  29th 
f>  give  an 
il,  and  of 


the  books 
tain  trace 
form  was 
had  found 
the  Lord. 
1  made  as 
be  linding 
iiiod  mon- 
,"  went  to 
ds  of  the 
miediately 
lose  books 
,vn  to  the 
ssted  Puch 
covery  by 
n  his  more 
'  tiit^  book 
wore  any 
he  might 
asod  ;  it  is 
there  wa*< 
ce,  the  va 
upon   tlie 

r    is    10    1k) 

'hroniclis. 
contradic 
of  Doutor- 
ire  Christ, 
i)f  writing 
said  to  the 
V  and  ])ut 
lant  of  the 


Lord  your  Ood,  that  it  may  l)e  there  to  witness 
against  yon."  Now  if  this  book  of  the  law 
was  faitlifully  kept  with  that  rovorontliil  can- 
wliich  the  Jews  are  said  to  have  had  for  it,  w]<y 
was  it  not  in  the  same  ark  4.)0  years  after- 
ward, at  the  time  the  groat  temple  is  said  \" 
have  boon  dedicated  by  Solomon  V  It  was  not 
then  to  be  found,  and  no  mention  is  made  of 
such  a  book  ;  for  in  the  8th  chai)t(!r  of  1st 
bo(jk  of  Kings,  it  is  said  :  "  There  was  nothing 
in  tlie  Ark  save  the  two  tables  of  stone  which 
Mosos  p\it  there  at  Horeb." 

It  is  impossilde  to  roconcil'^  those  discrepan- 
cies. Errors  (  this  kind  implanted  ;m  a  book 
claiming  to  l)o  inspiroil  seriously  atHot  th<- 
credibility  of  the  whole.  But  why  slicnld  an 
almost  unknown  barbarous  tribe  like  ibe  an- 
cient Jews  be  the  sole  recipients  of  favors  and 
communications  from  tlio  Deity?  As  a  race, 
they  were  i)erha))S  the  most  vindictive,  cruel, 
and  blood-thirsty  monsters  tliat  ever  lived  ; 
their  Ood  was  but  the  reflection  of  themselves, 
and  their  law-giver  Mos(>s,  called  meek,  possess- 
ed such  a  character  as  the  civilization  of  the 
im'sentdiiy  would  pronounce  thorouglily  cruel 
and  dt'pravod.  His  first  prominent  act  was  the 
deliberate  murder  of  an  Egyptian,  whom  he 
buried  in  the  sand  ;  and  afterward  he  was  the 
hero  of  a  number  of  murders  and  robberies 
almost  too  dreadful  to  recite ;  and  the  writings 
which  bear  his  sanction  are  records  of  fearful 
atrocity.  While  assuming  to  Uiach  his  coun- 
rynioii  purer  doctrines,  and  a  more  correct  no- 
tion of  a  Divine  Being,  he  followed  tlie  exam- 
ple of  8urrou..ding  nations  by  tlie  slaughti  r 
of  poor  dumb  brutes,  as  a  sacrifice  to  appease 
the  imaginary  wrath  of  his  Deity.  He  in- 
cite<l  the  Jews  to  be  faithless  and  implacable 
to  their  euc^mios,  and  to  rob  and  murder  thorn 
whenever  an  opportunity  offered.  Not  only 
was  he  cruel  to  strangers,  but  by  his  com- 
mands, (hiith  was  the  jienalty  to  his  own  ])eo- 
I)le  for  coiu])arativo]y  trivial  otf'enses,  as  well 
as  for  a  dilloreiice  of  opinion  with  regard  to 
worshi[). 

In  Leviticus.  24th  chaptrr,  13th  to  16th 
verses,  tluie  is  an  evidence  of  great  disregard 
for  huiiuiulife:  "And  the  Lord  spake  unto 
Moses,  saying.  Bring  forth  him  that  hath 
cursed  witlmut  the  eainp,  and  let  all  that  heard 
him  lay  their  liands  upon  his  head,  and  let  all 
tlie  cungrogaiion  stone  him"  "And  ho  that 
blasphemoth  tlio  name  of  the  Lord,  he  shall 
surely  bo  put  to  death,  and  oil  the  congrega- 
tion sliall  certainly  stone  him  ;  as  well  the 
stranger  as  he  that  is  lorn  in  the  land,  when 
he  biiisphomoth  the  name  of  the  Lord,  shall 
be  put  to  death." 

'I'ho  13tli  chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  0th  to 
0th  versos,  contains  a  sad  ])roof  of  the  intol- 
erance and  inhumanity  jirevailing  among 
"God's  chosen  ])oople." 

"  If  thy  brother,  the  son  of  thy  mother,  or 
thy  s(m,  or  thy  daughter,  or  tlio  wife  of  thy 
bosom,  or  thy  friend  which  is  as  thim  own 
soul,  entice  then;  secretly,  saying.  Let  us  go 
and  serve  other  gods  which  thou  bsist  not 
known,  tliou  nor  thy  fathers;  nanio'  the 
gods  of  the  jioople  which  are  round  liout 
you,  nigh  unto  thee,  or  far  oil"  from  thoo,  I'rom 
the  one  end  of  the  earth,  even  unto  the  other 


tend    «'■   tho  earth,  thou  shalt  not  consent 
unto    him   nor   hearken   unto   him;    noitlier 
j  shall  thine  eye  pity  him,  rw  itlior  shalt  thuu 
spare,  neitiier  shalt   thou  conceal   him.     But 
'  thoK,  shalt  .virdy  kill  him  ;  thy  hand  shall  bo 
first  to  put  him  to  death,  and  afterward  the 
I  liand  of  (dl  tlie  people."     Will  tlie  liherality 
j  of  the  nineteenth  century  accept  of  such  teach- 
ing?   The  bloody  code  of  Draco  was  mildnesa 
in  com])arison. 

The  "divine  law-giver,"  Moses,  also  incul- 
cated  revenge  by  numerous  precepts,  as  in 
Deuteronomy,  19th  cha])ter,  21st  verso  .  "  And 
thine  eye  shall  not  pity;  but  life  shall  go  for 
life,  eye  for  eye,  tooth  for  tooth,  hand  for 
hand,  foot  for  foot." 

His  savage  treatment  of  enemies  was  most 
frightful.  In  the  7tli  chapter,  2d  verse:  "And 
when  the  Lord  thy  Uod  shall  deliver  thorn 
(their  enemies)  before  thee,  thou  shalt  smito 
theiti  and  utterly  destroy  them  ;  thou  shalt 
make  no  covenant  with  them,  nor  show  mercy 
unto  themP 

A  fearful  instance  <>'"  butchery  by  the  com- 
mand of  Mosos  is  given  in  Numbers,  ;31st  chap- 
ter, from  l;3tli  verse.  Tlie  Jewish  army  wore 
sent  to  "avenge"  themselves  of  the  Midian- 
ites  ;  to  effect  this,  they  slew  "  all  the  mal<>s," 
together  with  five  of  the  kings  of  Midian.  The 
women  and  children  were  taken  as  captives, 
their  cities  were  burnt,  and  their  cattle,  flocks, 
and  goods  taken  as  spoil.  Upon  the  return 
of  these  chosen  avengers,  with  their  captives 
and  prey,  "  Moses  and  Eleazar  the  priest,  and 
all  the  i)rince8  of  the  congregation,  went  fi-rth 
to  meet  tliem  without  the  camp."  "  And 
Moses  was  wroth  with  the  officers  of  the  host, 
with  the  captains  over  thousands,  and  cap- 
tains over  hundreds  which  came  from  the 
battle." 

"  And  Moses  said  unto  them.  Have  ye  saved 
all  the  women  alive  ?"  "  Behold  these  caused 
the  children  of  Israel,  through  the  council  of 
Balaam,  to  commit  trespass  against  the  Lord 
in  the  matter  of  Poor,  and  there  was  a  i)laguo 
among  the  congregation  of  tlu;  Lord." 

"  Now,  therefore,  kill  every  male  ainonrj  the 
little  ones,  and  kill  every  woman  that  hath 
knoirn  man  by  lying  with  him:  but  all  the 
women  children  that  have  not  known  a  man 
by  lying  with  him,  keep  alive  for  yoitrselces." 

Humanity  shudders  to  think  that  such  an 
atrocious  command  could  be  given  by  one  di- 
vinely appoint(!d ;  yet  it  is  orthodox,  and 
meets  the  approval  of  Christian  jjriosts  unto 
the  present  day,  even  this  murder  and  de- 
bauclu'ry ! 

The  Mosaic  account  of  the  creation,  and  the 
Mosaic  cosmogony  in  general,  arc  singularly 
false,  leading  to  thi'  grossest  errors  and  ab- 
surdities, and  contradictory  to  well-established 
principles  of  modern  science.  In  this  account, 
it  is  said  that  lirjht  was  croiKod  on  the  first 
day ;  that  grass,  herbs,  and  fruit  trees  were 
cn-ated  and  made  to  grow  on  the  third  day  ; 
while  the  sun,  the  only  source  of  natural 
light,  and  the  great  agent  of  vegetation,  was 
not  made  until  the  fourth  day. 

Now,  there  could  not  have  lieen  an  evening, 
or  a  morning,  or  a  first,  soc(md,  or  third  day, 
without  the  natural  revolution  of  the  earth  ; 


n&i 


M 


m 


■■■i*»-,.'ii 


ill* 


78 


EXETER   HALL. 


Ml 


H 


i        i- 


nt'ltlior  could  there  have  hoen  any  ycj;otab]e 
growtlj,  to  cause  a  tree  to  jjrow  and  y'wUl  seed, 
witliout  its  direct  iuflueuce. 

Tlie  14th  verse  of  the  first  chapter  of  flen- 
CBJs  Bays  :  "  And  (i(Kl  said,  Let  thi-re  he  li^Mits 
in  tlie  lirniameut  of  heaven,  to  divide  the  day 
from  the  nijj^ht,  and  let  them  be  for  signs,  and 
for  seasons,  and  for  days,  and  years.'' 

Yet  three  days  and  three  nifrhts  had  al- 
ready passed  without  a  sinfjle  planetary  revo- 
lution. The  account  states  that  on  the  fourth 
day  the  stars  were  made  also,  merely  "  to  jrive 
li^ht  upon  the  earth."  ITow  different  to  what 
astronomy  has  proved!  Sir  J.  Herschel,  in  his 
philosophical  transactions,  proves  that  some  of 
the  nebuL'e  arc  at  such  an  inwuense  distance 
from  the  earth  that  their  lij?ht,  traveling  at 
-the  rate  of  200,000  miles  in  a  second  could 
not  have  reached  the  earth  in  less  than  about 
two  millions  of  years.  Later  discoveries  of 
Lord  liosse  fully  corroborate  the  estimate,  and 
it  is  now  well  established  that  thousands  of 
stars,  which  Scripture  asserts  were  made  as  if 
but  "  to  give  light  upon  the  earth,"  are  in  re- 
ality Suns  to  other  systems,  so  vast  as  to  re- 
duce our  solar  si/stem,  by  comparison,  to  al- 
most insignificance. 

After  the  creation  of  fishes,  fowl,  and  great 
whales  on  iXxa  fifth  day,  the  beginning  oi  the 
sixth  day  was  devoted  to  the  production  of 
cattle,  creeping  things,  and  beasts  of  tlic 
earth  ;  and  then  God  said,  "  Let  us  make 
man  in  our  image,  after  our  likeness,  and  let 
tlLcm  have  dominion,"  etc.,  etc.  The  plural 
number  is  introduced  into  this  verse  as  appli- 
cable to  both  (Jod  and  man. 

So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in 
the  image  of  God  created  ho  him  ;  male  and 
female,  created  ho  them.  And  God  blessed 
tliem  ;  and  God  said  unto  tlicm,  be  fruitful  and 
multiply,"  etc.,  etc.  The  27th  verso  of  the 
first  chapter  of  Genesis,  above  recited,  declares 
in  positive  terms  that  God  created  man  male 
(.  Jul  female  ;  and  this  is  confinned  in  the  next 
verse,  when  thii/  were  blessed  and  bid  be  i'ruit- 
ful.  It  is  evident  from  this,  that  God  was  ad- 
dressing Adam  and  his  wife,  whom  he  had  j  ust 
created. 

The  30th  verse  states  :  "  And  to  evcri/ least 
of  the  earth,  and  to  every  foicl  of  the  air,  and 
to  eve7\i/  thiiiff  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth, 
vherciu  there  in  life,  I  have  given  every  green 
\\Q.xhfor  meat  ;  and  it  was  so."  This  is  direct- 
ly at  variance  with  what  is  known  of  the 
habits  of  animals  of  prey,  which  are  nearly  all 
carnivorous.  Naturalists  have  proved  that 
such  animals  can  only  exist  by  feeding  on 
flesh.  The  lion,  tiger,  wolf,  and  other  animals 
would  quickly  fjorish  if  left  to  the  sole  sus- 
tentation  of  green  herbs  for  the  text  includes 
6iv;'.y  animal. 

The  cl-apterthus  concludes  :  "And  God  saw 
every  thing  that  he  had  made,  and  b(!hold  it 
•icastevi;  (/ood.  And  the  evening  and  the  mor- 
ning were  the  sixth  day." 

The  second  chapter  begins  with  the  declara- 
tion :  "  Thus  the  heavens  and  earth  were 
fininhcd,  and  all  the  host  of  tluun.  And  on  the 
seventh  day  tiod  ended  his  work  which  he 
had  nuide,  and  he  rested  on  the  seventh  day 
from  all  his  work  which  he  had  made."  The 
creation,  therefore,  was  finished  ;  God  had  pro- 


nounced every  thinfj  very  good,  and  rested  from 
his  labor. 

G  reat  surprise  luis  been  manifested  by  many, 
anxious  to  believe  the  Scriptures,  that  the  plain 
statement  respecting  the  creation  of  nam — 
male  and  female,  in  tho  lirst  chapter,  should 
be  as  plainly  contradicted  in  the  second.  In 
this  latter  chai)ter,  we  a.  ^  told  that,  after  the 
creation,  God  "  took  the  ma;'  and  put  him  into 
the  garden  of  Eden,  to  dress  It  xnd  Veep  it ; 
but  at  the  same  time  forijade  him  lo  eat  tho 
fruit  of  one  i)articular  tree,  after  having  pre- 
viously told  him  that  evevji  tree  "  yielding 
seed"  should  be  to  him  "  for  uieat."  And  the 
Lord  said,  "  It  is  not  good  that  tho  man  should 
hi-  alone,  I  will  make  him  an  heljimeet  for  him." 
A  deep  sleep  then  fell  upon  Adam,  and,  while 
in  that  state!,  the  story  says  :  "  that  one  of  his 
ribs  was  taken  out,  and  God  made  a  woman  of 
it"! 

From  this,  it  appears,  that,  although  in  tho 
first  chapter,  God  made  man  male  and  female, 
and  even  addressed  them  as  in  the  text,  yet,  in 
the  next  chapter,  after  (Jod  liad  ended  his  work 
and  rested,  no  woman  had  been  created  until 
he  nuide  one  out  of  Adam's  rib !  A  tradition 
so  inconsistent  would  be  readily  treated  as  a 
myth  by  any  others  but  those  Avho  seem  deter- 
miiiod  to  believe  all  and  every  thing  includwl 
in  the  IMble. 

The  2d  verse  of  the  5th  chapter  of  Genesis  is 
confirmatory  of  the  first  account  of  tho  crea- 
tion of  man  ;  thus  ''male  and  female  created 
he  thcni,  and  blessed  them,  and  he  called  their 
nanie  Adam"  in  the  day  when  they  were  created. 

Another  inconsistency  appears  as  to  the  sat- 
isfaction which  thy  biblical  Creator  derived 
from  his  own  wo':k.  The  first  chapter  of  the 
Bible  records  that  lie  i)ronounced  every  thing 
ho  had  made  very  good  ;  in  the  .sixth  cliapter, 
alter  having  discovered  the  great  wickedness 
of  man,  the  record  says  :  "  And  it  repented  the 
Lord  that  he  had  made  man  on  the  earth,  and  it 
giieved  him  at  his  heart." 

Truly  the  prescience  and  omniscience  of  the 
Mosaic  Deity  must  liave  betm  very  circum- 
scribed ;  and  his  instability,  his  repentance, 
and  his  grief  like  unto  those  same  frailties  of 
mortals ! 

The  account  of  the  "  fall "  is  one  which 
has  sorely  puzzled  the  best  and  wisest  "  di- 
vines." Adam,  whom  the  Lord  had  but  just 
pronounced  perfect,  lulls  at  the  very  first  temj)- 
tation,  and  his  posterity  are  unjustly  cursed 
and  degraded  by  the  commission  of  that  act. 

If  Adam  was  not  perfect,  it  seems  like 
trlHing  with  himian  infirmity  to  place  him  in 
such  a  positicm  as  to  be  unable  to  resist  the 
inducement  to  sin  ;  for  it  was  not  until  after 
he  had  committed  the  offense  that  he  was  able 
to  discern  betwi^en  good  and  evil. 

For  eating  this  apjile,  Adam  was  expelled 
from  Paradise,  and  cf)nd(;mned  to  earn  his 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  ;  his  wifi;  was 
cursed,  and  both  made  sinful  and  unhappy ; 
the  ground  was  cursed,  and  ordered  to  pro- 
duce thorns  and  thistles  ;  and  a  s])ecial  male- 
diction was  iironounccd  against  tlie  serpent : 
"  upon  thy  belly  thou  slialt  go,  and  dust  thou 
slialt  eat  all  the  days  of  thy  life." 

The  (juestion  arises,  if  tho  serpent  was  then 
cursed,  it  must  have  previously  had  s(jme  other 


EXETER    HALL. 


79 


Btcd  from 

by  many, 

.  the  pluin 

if  imin — 

;r,  should 

ond.     In 

after  tbo 

liim  into 

Voi-p  it ; 

,o  eat  tho 

vin>i  ])re- 

'  yielding 

And  tlie 

an  should 

;  for  him." 

iiid,  while 

)no  of  his 

Koman  of 

ijrh  in  tho 
ul  female, 
xt,  yet,  in 
1  his  work 
ated  until 
tradition 
•ated  as  a 
eem  deter- 
; included 

G^cnc8is  is 
tho  crea- 
te created 
ailed  their 
recreated, 
to  the  sat- 
cr  derived 
)tcr  of  the 
very  thing 
h  chapter, 
vickedness 
pen  ted  the 
iirth,  and  it 

•nco  of  the 
ry  circum- 
■epentance, 
frailties  of 

3ne  which 
ivisest  "  di- 
id  but  just 

iirst  teiup- 
Uly  cursed 
that  act. 
^oenis   like 
ace  hin\  in 

resist  the 
until  after 
le  was  able 

IS  oxpclle.l 
o  earn  his 
s  wife  was 
[  unhappy ; 
red  to  pro- 
)eciul  male- 
10  serjicnt : 
d  dust  thou 

ut  was  then 
,  some  other 


means  of  locomotion.  In  what  way  did  it 
travel,  as  siTpents  were  never  known  to  have 
hadlejrsV  It  had  never  eaten  dust,  neillier 
does  it  at  tht!  present  day.  Tho  whole  story 
has  been  ])ronounced  most  absurd,  and  com- 
mentators have  been  at  their  wits'  end  to  ren- 
der it  plausible,  or,  as  having  been  derived 
from  "inspirati(m." 

Tho  hnirncd  expositor.  Dr.  Clarke,  has  sujr- 
gested  that  it  miffht  have  been  an  Al'K  that 
tempted  our  Iirst  mother !  To  such  an  extrem- 
ity has  learning  and  intelligence (ner  l)een  re- 
duced, when  submitting  to  the  incongruities 
of  ficti(m. 

To  hide  the  nakedness  of  Adam  and  Eve, 
the  Lord,  it  is  said,  went  and  made  coats  of 
skins,  with  which  he  clothed  them  ! 

The  tradition  concerning  tlm  fall,  like  many 
others  in  the  Bible,  can  be  traced  to  the  legends 
of  a  more  ancient  people  than  the  Jews,  and  to 
an  antitpiity  far  more  remote  than  any  record- 
ed in  Bible  history.* 

Among  other  curious  recitals  of  the  "  word 
of  truth"  is  that  of  the  2d  verse,  (Jth  chap- 
ter of  Genesis.  "  Tho  sons  of  Uod  (angels) 
saw  tho  daugliters  of  men  that  they  were  fair, 
and  they  took  them  wives  of  all  they  chose." 
Hero  is  something  for  "doctors  of  divinity." 
Angels  descending  to  tccd  the  daughters  of 
men  !  The  Egyptians  and  Persians  have  alle- 
gorized tho  same  doctrine,  and  Thon'as  Moore 
has  founded  his  beautiful  poem,  The  Lows  of 
the  Angels,  on  such  an  idea. 

The  depravity  of  mankind  had  already  be- 
come so  great  that  the  Lord  determined  to 
rid  himself  of  them.  "  And  the  Lord  said :  I 
will  destroy  man  whom  I  have  created  from 
the  face  of  the  earth,  both  man  and  beast, 
and  creeping  thing,  and  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
for  it  repenteth  me  that  I  have  made  them," 
verso  7,  chap.  vi.  But  Noah  having  fortu- 
natCily  found  favor,  in  order  to  save  him  and 
his  femily,  and  preserve  animals  to  stock  the 
earth  anew,  the  Iiord  commanded  him  to 
make  a  large  vessel  called  the  ark  ;  it  was  to 
be  abouto-io  feet  l(mg,90  feet  broad,  and  three 
stories  high — madcs  according  to  sjjecific  direc- 
tions from  the  Deity — and  a  careful  estinuito 
has  given  its  capacity  as  ab<mt  90,000  cubic 
yards.f 

Noah  was  then  to  take  seven  of  every  kind 
of  bird,  male  and  female,  and  seven  also  of 
every  clean  beast ;  and  two  eacli  of  every 
other  kind  of  animal.  An  ortliodoK  authority 
gives  the  number  of  birds  of  all  kinds  at  8000. 
Seven  of  eacli  kind,  male  and  female,  vould 
malce  113,000  birds,  and  allowing  less  tli;;'i 
one  cubic  yard  to  ea(;h  bird,  they  alone  would 
more  than,  fiH  the  ark  ;  for  many  of  the  birds 
of  that  pci-iod  were  of  an  immense  size. 
TJK^re  ar(*  IGoS  species  of  beasts,  two  of  each 
kind  Would  be  ;J151G  ;  but  then  there  are  100  of 


*  Sco  Note  P. 

t  As  to  tliu  materials  of  which  tho  mytliical  ark  of 
Scripture  was*  coiiipojied.  learned  Christian  cdinineii- 
tatoi'H  liav(!  foriueil  various  opinion:*.  Tims  our  n)o<l- 
eni  "autliorized"  version  nialces  It  r/op/wr-wnod ;  On- 
kilhoa,  of  (M/tii:  TlieArahie  eoniineniatora  declare!  it 
to  l)u  bo.v.-n'(X)il;  tlie  Persians, ;«/(«  wooil.  The  eele- 
hrnt(Kl  Hochart  declares  it  was  ihoiiij :  Dr.  Cieddes 
afllrnis  it  to  he  w'tckfr  tmrk ;  while  the distiniruisheii 
CIn-istian,  Dawson,  contends  that  it  was  made  of  bul- 
rmliM  daubed nU/i  aiii/ie. 


theflo  clean  beasts  ;  and  seven  of  each  of  thepc 
niake  1102;  making  in  all,  4478  beasts  largo 
and  small.  Of  rejitiles,  there  are  GoT.  multi- 
plied by  two,  gives  i;jl4 ;  and  yet  further,  of  in- 
sects and  creeping  things  there  are  750,000 
various  kinds,  which,  doubled,  would  nuike 
over  one  and  a  half  millions!  An  important 
element  in  the  calculation  is  yet  to  be  consid- 
ered. Noah  was  recpiired  to  put  into  the  ark 
suilicieut  food  for  all  tJie  living  creatures  to  be 
tak«'n.  But  even  to  supply  grass-eating  ani- 
nnils  alone,  numbering  about  2000,  the  nrk 
itself  could  not  contain  tho  quantity  requisite. 

Some  animals  would  recjuiro  llesh,  others 
fish,  others  grain,  others  fruit,  and  others 
insects.  How  was  it  possible  to  obtain  sui> 
plies  for  all  these  ?  The  food  necessary  for 
ten  or  twelve  months  would  make  an  im- 
mense bulk,  far  beyond  the  capacity  of  the 
ark ;  neither  could  even  a  vessel  of  its  size 
contain  tho  indispensable  supply  of  water,  as 
the  ocean  of  the  flood  would  be  salt. 

Assuming  that  the  immense  collection  co\ild 
bo  cribbed  and  confined  within  the  ark,  the 
question  then  comes,  how  could  they  breathe? 
There  was  but  one  small  window  in  the  ark, 
which  was  closed  ;  and  how  could  eight  per- 
6(ms  only  attend  to  all  these  animals,  and 
sup|)ly  them  with  food  and  water  ?* 

But  whence  the  flood  itself?  The  mere  rain- 
ing of  forty  days  and  nights  would  be  com- 
paratively nothing  toward  it.  The  Andes 
are  supposed  to  be  20,000  -"eet  above  the  level 
of  tho  sea  ;  the  vapors  of  the  atmosphere,  if 
condensed,  could  not  deluge  the  earth  to  the 
height  of  an  ordinary  house.  Modern  geolo- 
gists deny  that  there  ever  was,  or  ever  could 
be,  a  universal  deluge ;  the  marine  shells  found 
on  the  tops  of  mountains  have  been  deposited 
by  changes  of  the  earth's  surface,  and  there 
is  proof  incontestable  that  these  changes  have 
been  produced  by  the  gradual  operation  of 
water  and  heat;  Egyptologists  assert  that 
monuments  have  been  found  in  the  valley  of 
the  Nile  which  bear  evidence  of  having  been 
erected  at  a  period  long  before  that  assigned 
to  the  flood. 

This  i)art  of  the  Mosaic  history  has  been 
the  cause  of  much  embarrassment  to  profes- 
sional tluiologians  ;  numerous  explanatory  the- 
ories have  been  tor  mod  but  to  conibund  each 
other  ;  and  many  intelligent  Christians  have 
wished  that  such  a  record  had  never  existed. 
The  Rev.  Dr.  Pyo  Smith  admits  that — 
"  tln!  flood  could  not  be  universal,"  that  it 
couJd  not  have  "  resulted  in  the  destruction  of 
all  animal  life,"  and  "  that,  connecting  the 
(piestion  with  j)hysical  causes,  it  ajipi-'ared  to 
him,  that  unless  we  resorted  to  miraculous 
agency  (against  which  he  protested)  it  was  im- 
lK),ssible  to  inuigine  the  ark  capable  of  con- 
taining parts  of  all  the  animals  whose  exist- 

*  Bishop  Wilkina  tries  to  get  rid  of  the  didlcnlty  by 
"  rcdneinj,' the  numher  of  ^V'^aV*  ,■"  hut  tin;  H»th  and 
reniainini?  verses  of  the  (ith  chapter  of  Uenesia  arc 
conclusive  as  to  tlie  nieaniii;,'  and  mteniion  of  the  an- 
gry Deity  according  to  Ids  '•  Inspired  Word."  There 
was  to  have  heon  two  saved  of  every  ,tor/.  of  every 
living  thing,  of  all  ll(!sh— plain  enough  in  this  case  for 
a  "  wayfarnig  man.'"  Assuming,  however,  tliat  there 
had  been  a  llood,  and  that  almost  every  living  thing 
on  land  had  been  destroyed,  the  deluge  could  not  have 
all'ected  the  inhabitants  of  tho  ''great  deip."—Av- 

TUCK. 


•A" 


N>. 


a 


EXETER    HALL. 


*■•♦ 


encc  mnst  clrptiid  entirely  upon  their  exennv 
lion  fioiii  inundation.''  Tlien,  huvinjj:  detailed 
the  fircat  A-aiicty  of  species  in  tht;  animal 
creation,  he  adniiis  the  impossibility  of  stow- 
ing: tlieiu  in  the  ark. 

The  fiieat  Dr.  Burnei  says  that  the  quan- 
tity of  Avater  it  wouhl  taki  to  cover  the  high- 
est moi'.ntains,  "  must  at  least  exceed  the  luag- 
iiitude  of  eif«lit  oceans ;"  tliat  no  such  quan- 
tity could  be  found,  or,  if  found,  ever  remov- 
ed, and  that,  therefore,  "  our  present  earth 
was  not  subject  to  a  delufre,  nor  is  it  capal)le 
of  it  by  Its  sliajie  or  elevation."  {Archcol.  I'ld- 
los.  cliaiiter  iv.  )>.  40.) 

Scienliiic  e\:dence  bears  so  strongly  against 
the  theory  of  a  general  deluge  that  the  whole 
story  liiis  long  been  given  up  by  many  as 
being  the  issue  uud  result  of  downright  ig- 
norance. 

After  the  subsidence  of  the  flood,  the  Lord 
made  anotlu'r  covenant,  and  ])roniised  not  to 
destroy  the  earth  again  by  a  deluge,  and  •'  set 
his  bow  in  the  cloud  for  a  token."  Again, 
science  confutes  this  rainbow  novelty,  and 
prov(>s  that  there  has  always  been  rain  and 
sunshine,  and  that  the  rainbow  had  not  then 
api)eared  in   the   heavens  for  Wmfirxt  time. 

Passing  the  strange  relation  about  the 
tower  of  Babel,  and  the  confusion  f)f  tongues, 
the  discrepancii'S  in  the  accounts  of  how  Abra- 
ham made  his  wife  ajjpear  as  his  sister,  we  tind 
that  the  destruction  of  the  flood  liaving  failed 
in  its  ex]tected  results,  tlu^  Lord  a])pears  tif/((in 
as  a  destroyer,  lie  visits  Abraham  in  his  tent 
upon  tlie  plains  of  Manire  accomi)anied  by 
two  angels.  It  seems  his  foreknowledge  was 
at  fault ;  for  he  canu)  to  try  and  And  out 
■whether  the  iritjuity  of  Sodom  was  as  great 
as  had  been  represented.  "  I  will  go  down 
now,  and  see  whether  they  have  done  alto- 
together  according  to  the  cry  of  it  which  is 
come  unto  me ;  and  if  not,  I  will  know."  The 
Lord  and  his  heavenly  messenger.^  having 
had  their  feet  washed,  and  having  juirtaken  of 
refreshments — cakes,  butter,  milk,  arid  veal — 
made  a  jadnuse  to  Sarali,  then  a  very  old  wo- 
man, that  she  should  have  a  son  ;  and  one  to 
Abraham,  that  he  would  not  destroy  Sodom, 
provided  ten  righteous  persons  were  found  in 
it,  and  took  his  departu.  e  !  This  account  is  to 
be  found  in  the  18th  chapter  of  (Jenesis,  and 
portrays  the  Lord  and  his  attendants  in  every 
respect  as  very  like  ordinary  mortals. 

In  the  ci-iitinuatior,  of  the  history  of  mur- 
ders, which  tonus  such  a  large  poriion  of  the 
Old  Testament,  th(^  lOth  chapter  of  the  liook 
c  Joshua  contains  a  record  of  that  great  niir- 
H''le,  the  standing  still  of  tin;  f<iiii  and  vioon. 
The  slaughter  of  the  nations  around  them 
seems  to  hi'.ve  been  a  favorite  pastime  of  the 
"  chosen  j)eo])le."  Joshua  was  their  leach  v 
after  Moses,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  indidge 
and  encourage  the  ])ious  recreation  of  exter- 
minating the  "eninnies  of  the  Lord." 

The  men  of  (iiix-ou  bavin'.';  sent  for  aid  to 
Joshua,  against  tlu^  Amoriu's,  he  went  out 
with  his  mighty  men  io  give  them  battle. 
There  were  live  kiniis  t.)  be  overcome  ;  but  the 
Lord,  as  u  m  al,  promise  d  '•  his  people"  the  vic- 
tory. Tie  slaughter  c<  mmenced  attiibeon; 
and  as  t'le'  poor  wretches  lied  for  their  lives, 
"  the  Lord  cast  down  great  stones  from  hea- 


ven upon  them,  unto  Azekah,  and  they  died." 
But  h  St  the  day  should  not  lu!  long  enough 
to  complete  the  butclu-ry,  then  sjakt^  Joshua: 
Sun,  stand  thou  still  ui>on  (ubeon,  and  thou, 
nujon,  in  the  valley  of  Ajalon.  And  the 
sun  stood  still,  and  the  moon  staid  until  the 
j)eo])le  I'.ad  avenged  themselves  ujion  their 
enemies.  Is  not  this  written  in  i/u  bock  of 
JAsiir.a  'I  "  So  the  sun  stood  still  in  the  midst 
of  heaven,  and  hasted  not  to  go  down  about 
a  v/iote  ihiy." 

Had  such  an  event  ever  occurred  as  the  sud- 
den stopi)ing  of  the  earth  in  its  swiit  ri^volu- 
tion,  every  living  being,  and  every  work  of 
man  ujjou  its  surface  would  havi'  been  instant- 
ly destroyed;  even  the  earth  itself  would  fly 
into  fragments.  Y«'t  it  is  known  that  there 
are  buildings  now  standing  in  Kgyit  erected 
before  the  alleged  time  of  Joshua.  Were  it 
jiossible  that  the  sun  or  moon  could  have  stood 
still,  such  an  extraordinary  event  would  have 
bi'en  known  over  the  whole  world  ;  yet  neither 
in  China,  India,  Pei^ia,  or  Egyjit.  nioie  ancient 
countries,  where  astronomy  was  studied,  is 
there  any  mention  made  of  it.  The  narrative 
was  uevi'r  penned  by  such  a  jx'rson  I's  J(,shua  ; 
for  the  unknown  scribe  quott  s  the  Ivvkof 
Jasiieu  as  authority  to  corrolxirnte  the  mi- 
racle !  This;  book  of  Jdnlur  was  then  consider 
ed  as  one  of  the  "  inspired"  liooks,  and  as  it 
was  not  written  until  the  tirm  cf  tlie  kiu(/s, 
c(>nturieB  after  the  death  of  Joxlnut.  he  could 
not  have  been  the  writer. '  The  bvak  »J  Janhcr, 
like  nutny  others  still  quoted  in  the  Bible,  has 
long  been  enumerated  among*  he  loxt  books  oi 
Scrijjture ;  it  can  not  now  be  found. 

This  is  another  of  the  so-called  miracles  that 
theologians  would  be  gladly  rid  of.  There  is 
no  concurring  testiiiiony  resjjecting  it,  Inbar- 
barous  ages,  every  ])retender  was  a  miracle- 
worki^r,  and  this  particular  one  has  been  foist- 
ed into  the  "  word  of  truth"  by  some  one  igno- 
rant of  the  first  princi))les  of  astronomy. 

The  whole  story  is  a  fable,  a  relic  of  some 
ancient  myth,  on  which  are  founded  so  many 
of  the  Bible  miracles,  to  ecliiise  si  iince  and 
common  sense,  and  to  cast  a  sliadow  over  rea- 
son and  intelligence. 

As  a  further  i)roof  of  the  huniinu'  disposition 
of  the  i)eople  of  (iod,  the  stoiy  ccntinues,  that 
after  the  great  slaughter,  the  five  kings  who 
had  taken  refuge  in  a  cave  were  di  gged  out 
by  order  of  Joshua.  He  said,  "  Come  near,  put 
your  feet  upon  the  necks  of  tluse  kings.  And 
they  caiUk;  near,  and  jjut  their  feet  iijiou  the 
ni'cksof  them."  "  And  afterward  .!<  shua  smote 
them,  and  slew  them, and  hanged  them  on  live 
tices,  and  they  were  hanging  upon  the  trees 
until  the  evening." 

Is'ot  satislied  with  the  bloodshed  of  this 
notable  day,  he  went  on  snuting  ;  he  look  sev- 
en other  kings,  which  he  treated  to  the  same 
kind  of  death.  "So  Joshua  hUiote  all  the 
country  of  the  hills,  and  of  the  south,  and  <il 
tlie  vale,  and  of  the  sjjrln'gs,  and  all  their 
kings:  he  left  non(!  remaining,  but  utterly 
destroyed  all  that  lireathed,  as  the  Lord  tiod 
of  Israel  comtiianded." 

The  next  cbai)t(  r  continues  the  fearful  rec 
ord  ;  <'Ven  the  ]ioor  brutes  taki  n  from  tlie  t  ni' 
niy  were  gashed  and  lniniKti  uikj  by  order  ol' 
the  Lordl     "And  Joshua   did   unto  them  us 


EXETER    HALL. 


81 


ley  died." 
[f  enough 

Joshua: 
luul  thou, 
Aim!    the 

until  the 
jion  their 
'(   hcvk  of 

the  midst 
)\vn  about 

s  the  aud- 
it revolu- 

work  of 
n  in8t ant- 
would  fly 
liat  tliere 
j.t  elected 

\\  ere  it 
ia\  ('  stood 
ould  have 
*et  neither 

e  aiK'iint 
studied,  is 

nanativo 
's  Jibliua; 
10  hvvk  of 
e  the  mi- 
ll c(}n!«ider 
;,  and  as  it 
the  liuf/s, 
/,  lie  could 
•  (if  Janher, 

■  Bible,  lias 
/.si  books  of 

iraehstliat 
.  There  is 
it.  Inbar- 
a  miracle- 
s  bei'ii  I'oist- 
e  one  igno- 
nomy. 
lie  t)l'  Kome 
I'd  80  many 
-( icnce  ami 
i\v  over  rea- 

■  disposition 
tiiuuh,  that 
kiiijfH  who 

Ir  jiji'ed  out 
lie  near,  imt 
iiiji'S.  And 
■t  uiKiu  the 
.sluiaHiiote 
liem  on  live 
n  the  trei8 

lied  of  thin 
he  \(nik  !-ev- 
to  the  Hiinc 
ott!  all  tlu' 
luth,  and  of 
1(1  all  their 
I  lit  utterly 
ir  Lord  Ciiiil 

fearl'iil  rec- 
loni  the  tiif 

|i_v  ui'der  111 
iilo  them  as 


the  Lord  bade  him  ;  he  houfihcd  their  horses 
and  burnt  their  chariots  witli  lire.  For  it  \\iy». 
of  the  Lord  to  lutnloi  their  hearts,  that  they 
should  come  a;/i(inst  Israel  in  battle,  that  Iw 
miffht  destroy  them  utterly,  and  that  they 
niij^ht  have  no  fai'or,  but  that  ho  niijifht  de- 
stroy them,  as  the  Lord  commanded  Closes."" 
VVliat  a  friy:htt'iil  i)icturo!  A  "benevolent 
Deity"  deliberately  liardeninff  thi^  hearts  of 
creature??  'vhoni  he  had  created  to  war  with 
others  to  whom  he  was  ])artial !  No  wonder 
that  thesi!  cruel  tales  hav(i  become  so  revolt- 
injr,  and  that  humane  Christian  ministers  try 
to  avoid  readinr  them  from  their  jmlpits.  No 
wonder  that  more  missionaries  arc  required, 
and  that  mouthy  is  S(|uandered  in  vain  at- 
temjits  to  bind  down  humanity  and  p;enerous 
jmpi'.lses  to  such  "  truths ;"  and  it  was  no  won- 
der that  Mr.  Capel,  while  he  dwelt  upon  such 
a  history  durinjx  many  a  weary  nijjht,  trying, 
like  many  others,  to  reconcile  himself  to  its 
belief,  was  torturcfl  by  dn-ams  in  uneasy  slum- 
bers, and,  on  awnkinLT,  t(,  iv;  shamed  by  doubts, 
and — to  wish  himself  dead. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Tins  was  a  busy  week  at  Mrs.  Baker's,  a 
week  of  bustling  prejiaration.  Not  only  was 
there  to  be  the  re<rular  class  meeting  but 
there  was  also  t'l  be  a  iirayer-meeiing  every 
evening  during  the  week,  in  anticipation  of 
the  great  anniversary  at  Exeter  Hall.  TIk^so 
pious  sisters  were  lik<!  light  skirmishers  in  a 
corps  of  vohinteors,  determined  to  be  in  ad 
vancc  of  all  otlu'rs.  and  to  do  battle  as  it  wow 
on  their  own  account  against  the  eniMiiies  of  the 
liord.  The  grand  object  of  this  special  attack 
was  to  gain  supplies  from  tlu^  enemy ;  anil 
the  Lord  was  to  be  importuned  to  loosen  the 
grasp  of  the  miser  upon  his  hoards,  the  rich 
man  ujion  his  wenltli  ;  and  high  and  low,  old 
and  young,  were  all  jn'iiyed  fur  in  succession, 
so  that  abundance  might  How  into  the  spirit- 
ual treasury,  and  that  the  Hible  might  be 
scattered,  tliick  as  hail  in  a  storm,  among  de- 
luded Papists  ami  blind  unbelievers. 

Then  after  these  little  sorties,  the  sisters  re- 
tired into  the  clieert'iil  iiarlor,  where  tritliiig 
chat,  the  nitth^  of  tea-cups  and  the  fragrance 
of  youn,g  Ilyson  made  these  religious  meet- 
ings so  decitiedly  agreeable. 

Ai)art  from  any  excellence  attributed  to  re- 
ligion, one  of  its  greate.-it  attractimis  for 
woman  is  the  opportunity  .1  adiirds  for  pleas- 
ant reunions  and  social  intercour.-^e.  How  te- 
dious the  Sundays  would  pass  were  there  no 
jilaci!  to  go,  to  Si'e  and  be  seen.  Christian,  or 
rather  intensely  Pruli'stant  Christian  laws  and 
ciisloms,  have  made  it  iniju'oper  and  unpopu- 
lar, even  sonirtinies  aclual'y  criminal,  to  de- 
vote any  part  of  that  sombre  day  either  to 

♦  Anion sr  tlir  ii'iribU^  pitiios  of  piotiw  biitclicry  ro- 
r()i'i|(;il(>r  "(iiiil's  pi opli','"  ti'wciiii  cxi'i'cd  ill  l)ai'l)iirll.v 
tliiit   ivIiilL'd   ill   llie  »'d  ISook  of  Kiii,!,'H,  cliMiilcr  xv. 

VCI'SC   Iti. 

'•'I'lu'ii  MciiMliciii  smote  Tiplisiili,  niid  all  that  wi  ro 
llici'c'iii,  and  tile  foa^trt  llu'rcof  from  'I'ir/iili :  hrrausi! 
tlicy  opi'tiid  iiDl  111  liiiii,  tlicrcf'jri'  lie  Hiii(>tc  it  ;  il'id 
ii/l  ihe  women  l/uniu  Uiat  loere  wWi  child  uk  iiu'r^tu 
ui'!" 


science,  secular  di.scussions,  or  convivial  meet- 
ings. The  ding  dong  of  bells  on  the  early 
Sabbath  has  a  reviving  effect  in  a  community 
thus  <leprived ;  even  going  to  church  is  a 
relaxation.  Those  who  have  lived  ajiart  dur- 
ing the  week  have  now  a  chance  of  meeting 
some  <dd  friend — the  maiden  her  lover,  the 
},  oath  a  companion.  There  is  a  quiet  pleasure 
in  being  able  to  look  anmnd  upon  an  orderly, 
well-dressed  assemblage  of  worshipers,  to 
see  a  display  of  fashion,  to  hear  fine  inusio, 
and  to  sit  in  somniferous  ease,  wlifle  tliii  well- 
trained  minister  p.rforins  in  ^leculiar  clerical 
tones  tiie  religious  service;  wliich,  whether 
rendered  at  the  shrine  of  Moses,  or  Mohammed 
would  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to  many 
were  it  only  piqiular. 

To  woi.ian,  religion  (ifers  free  scope  for  use- 
fulness. She  is  foolishly  debarred  from  inter- 
ference in  most  other  matters;  she  is  made  a 
child  in  intellect,  and  di.'nied  a  profession ;  she 
is  lampooned  in  politics,  and  ridiculed  as  a 
sag(^;  and  though  the  church  ignores  iierasa 
teacher,  yet  she  is  placed  on  an  eiiuality  as  a 
co-worker  for  its  support ;  and  to  her  powerful 
aid,  religion  in  every  land  is  indebted  for  it.s 
greatest  supplies,  and  for  its  numenms  adher- 
ents. 

Mrs.  Mannors  was  one  among  the  number 
who  went  heart  and  soul  into  tfte  work.  She 
was  a  believer  of  the  right  kind.  For  Iut, 
there  was  nothing  outside  Christianity  worth 
living  for;  she  believed  that  she  had  an  im- 
portant part  to  jierlVn'm,  and  now  she  never 
felt  so  contented  as  when  actively  engaged  in 
some  religious  duty.  Slie  also  felt  that  w  'lilo 
her  luisband  was  without  the  ark  of  safety,  it 
behooved  her  to  redouble  her  exertions  on  his 
accouii  whertdiy  she  might  ])roi)itiate  Ood  in 
his  favor  ;  for,  although  hopeful  of  his  conver- 
sion, slu!  would  relax  no  ett'urt  until  it  was  ac- 
coniplished. 

She  had  been  at  Mrs.  Baker's  all  the  weidc  ; 
sh(i  took  but  little  interest  in  \wv  liouse- 
liold  affairs;  every  night  she  had  a  spiritual 
dream,  and  every  day  she?  formed  new  iilaiis 
in  order  to  accomplish  tlu^  conversion  of  sin- 
ners ;  and  now,  as  the  Bible  cause  was  about  to 
receive  a  fresh  iniimlse,  she  would  wait  for 
the  return  of  Mr.  Baker  and  Mr.  Capel,  and 
then  s'le  and  her  clas,s-niates  in  a  body  would 
go  with  them  to  Exeter  Hall.  She  could  re- 
main from  home  safely,  for  she  could  depend 
uiinii  one  trusty  servant,  and  she  knew  that 
Miss  Mannors  was  (piite  competent  to  see 
after  tlii^  wants  of  her  father  and  brother. 

Hannah  had  also  a  busy  wi-ek.  She  was  oc- 
casionally atllicted  with  a  mania  for  house- 
cleaning;  and  wheneveran  opportunity  olfered, 
and  very  olten  when  it  did  not,  she  would  up- 
set every  piece  of  furniture  in  the  ho  use  ;  beds, 
bedding,  ciiairs,  tables,  bureaus,  and  cupboards 
would  be  put  outside,  and  one  passing  might 
imagine  that  the  tithe  proctor  was  going  his 
rounds,  or  that  there  was  to  be  a  hasty  removal 
Mr  Mannors  had  lu^en  sy  accustomed  to  thia 
kind  of  thing  lliat  he  good-natunHlly  submitted, 
and  let  Ilanii..!'  Iiaveherown  way.  Miss  Man- 
nors never  interl'ered,  for  she  knew  her  mother 
would  not ;  .'Mid  on  such  occasions,  while  Robert 
generally  kept  out  of  the  way,  William  and 
Flounce  would  ait  in  a  corner  together,  wutch- 


iii* 


M 


fK: 


m 

r" 


r 


EXETER    HALL, 


(i*'»" 


1-  K  ;. 


fa.. 


fng  tlio  prncGodings  ;  or,  if  it  was  a  fine  day, 
would  perch  up(ni  some  elevation  in  tlie  sun- 
li^'lit.as  if  expecting;  tliat  after  the  last  ])ifC(! 
of  fiu'nitnro  was  thrown  out,  the  next  opera- 
tion would  be  the  pulling  down  of  the  whole 
house.         ; 

Hannah  was  never  so  happy  as  she  seemed 
to  he  on  such  occasions.  She  acted  as  if  she 
had  full  control,  and  more  especially  in  the 
absence  of  Mrs.  Mannors,  she  did  just  as  ski; 
pleased,  (piite  irresj)ectiVe  of  the  inconvenience 
she  might  ('ause  ;  and,  while  tugging  at  some 
heavy  article,  or  striving  to  eject  some  stnb- 
born  i)iece  of  furniture,  or  while  scouring  away 
at  something  that  would  p(>rsist  in  looking 
black  (i-  ')n.  n  in  spit(!  of  all  her  eflfbrts,  she 
Would  sing  all  manner  of  hynnis  that  she  conkl 
rememlujr ;  iuid  if  lier  memory  failed  her,  as  it 
often  did,  she  would  improvise  tunes  and 
words,  sometimes  very  imilevant,  for  the  part 
that  was  wanting  ;  and  it  was  only  when  she 
was  forced  into  a  regular  breakdown  that  she 
would  pause  for  a  moment  or  two,  to  renew 
lier  efforts,  or  commence  to  soliloquize  u\Hn\ 
some  houseliold  affiur,  or  other  matter,  then 
more  particularly  on  her  mind. 

Now  Uannah,  though  somewhat  beyond 
maidenly  y(!ars,  that  is  to  say,  between  twenty- 
five  and  thirty,  was  yet  fresh,  and  rather  gontl 
looking.  Strahgo  to  say,  she  never  c.onsi(Iered 
herself  a  bi'auty,  and  scarcely  ever  thought  of 
niatrinu)iiy ;  no,  not  since  sin?  left  her  dreams 
of  eighteen.  She  seemed  entirely  devoted  to 
her  mi.stress,  to  her  household  duties,  and  to 
John  Bunyan.  Now  and  then,  while  in  the 
very  midst  and  bustle  of  her  work,  with  mois- 
tened brow  and  sleeves  tucked  up.  slio  would 
])ause  for  a  moment,  and  steal  away  to  a  cer- 
tain corner  in  tlie  pantry, to  take  a  jieej)  at  the 
object  of  her  thcmghts.  There,  on  a  little 
sludf  close  to  a  small  window  lay  tlui  Pil- 
(jriirts  ProrjrcsH  ;  slu!  would  take;  up  tin;  treas 
ured  book,  read  a  little  here  and  there,  turn 
the  ])ages  over  and  over,  and  seem  delight('(i 
with  the  engravings.  There  was  the  poor 
pilgrim,  heavily  laden  with  his  pack  between 
his  shoulders,  leaving  hous'',  wile,  and  chil- 
<lren  to  iiee  from  the'^  "  City  of  Destruction." 
Then  he  was  seen  toiling  uj)  tiiehill  toward  tin; 
little  "wicket  gate."  There  w;is"  Vanity  Fair," 
"Christian  and  Evangelist,"  and  other  such 
pictures  at  whii-h  sh(!  ajjpeared  to  be  never 
tired  of  looking ;  auvi  she  would  gaze  in  admir- 
ration  at  the  plate  which  represent(Ml  the  Pil- 
grini  with  his  heavy  pack  conversing  with 
"  (iood  Will,"  at  the  arched  gate,  over  which 
was  Avritten,  "  Knock,  and  it  shall  be  oiimeil 
unto  you;"  while  on  a  tower,  at  on(i  side, 
could  be  seen  l^eelzebub  witli  bow  and  arrow, 
l)ut  like  wing,  and  crooked  forked  tail,  re.i.ly  to 
shoot  down  ))il<.n'inis  ere  they  entered,  or. as  in 
the  words  of  IJnnviin.  "From  tlii'uce  both  he 
and  they  that  are  with  him  shoot  arrows  at 
those  tluit  come  up  (o  tlie  gate,  if  happily  they 
may  die  before  they  enter  in." 

Thus  it  was  witU  Hannah  ;  while  other 
damsi'ls  similarly  situated  would  leisurely 
survey  Ijieir  good  looks  in  some  pi(>ceof  loo];- 
ing  glass,  jirivately  stowed  away,  slu;,  on  the 
cotilriirv.  only  went  to  consi.!*.  her  fiivorite 
John  bunyan.  Often,  when  she  was  in  the 
midst  of  such  a  turn-out,  Mr.  Manners  with 


Maiy  would  steal  on  tip-toe  and  watcli  tho 
operations  unobserved  from  behind  a  door,  or 
from  some  other  fovorable  spot.  lie  would 
humorously  say,  that  Hannah's  particular 
vice  was  that  of  scrubbing,  and  that  neither 
tin  pans,  nor  britannia  tea-jiots  would  live 
out  half  their  days  through  the  scraping,  rub- 
bing, and  polishing  they  were  destined  to 
sutler  under  the  intiuence  of  lier  restless 
arm. 

But  now  Hannah's  labors  for  the  Aveek 
were  nearly  brought  to  a  close.  Tho  clean 
cagt's  and  fluttering  canaries  were  hung  up, 
pu'tures  were  replaced  .:ven  the  shining  brasa 
])endulum  of  the  clock  in  the  hall  seemed  to 
look  laughingly  at  you  through  its  j)olished 
glass  casing,  wiiile  it  swung  steadily  to  and 
fro,  as  if  determined  to  ])ull  uj)  for  lost  time. 
Things  were  getting  in  order ;  Mr.  Mannors 
might  venture  again  into  his  study,  and  Han- 
nah, still  watched  by  William,  could  be  seen 
manfully  backing  in  and  dragffing  to  its 
l)lace  tlu^  great  heavy  kit(,'hen  table,  that  one 
would  think  held  back  as  if  it  felt  inclined 
to  put  her  to  all  the  trouble  it  could. 

"  Well,  1  declare,  if  missus  was  hero,  she'd 
maki^  that  good-for-nothing  Robert  help  mo 
in  with  this.  H(>'s — he's  always  away  when 
lui's  wanting."  Then  she  put  an  air  to  this 
verse  of  Bunyan's : 

'"  What  danger  is  tho  rilgrini  inl  how  nianvarc  his 

(ov^ ! 
How  many  wnyM  there  are  to  shi  no  living  mortal 

i<n()\vs ; 
Some  in  the  rtitcli  spoiled  arc,  yea,  can  die  tuml)liiig 

in  till'  inire : 
Some.  th(Mii:li  tlicy  ehun  tho  frying-pan,  do  leap  into 

tlK'  lire.' 

All  me!  just  so;  foes  within  and  foes  with- 
out in  this  horrid  world. 

'Wlicii  I  can  read  my  title  clear 

To  i)a]aLis  —' 

Well,  I  ought  to  know  that  verso;  but  our 
vil(^  nature  is  always  a  tliinking  of  some- 
thing else. 

'Hark  I  liow  tlie  \vat<linu'ii  cry;  attend  the  trumpet's 
sdinul. 
Stand  to  your  anus  !  tlio  foe  is  niRli,  tlie  powers  of 
licll  fuirround.' 

Yes,  if  them  fallen  ang>ls  couldn't  stand 
him,  how  can  weV  but — " 

"  Hannah,  here  comes  Ma  and  l^obert," 
said  Miss  ]Mannors,  entering  the  kitcluin. 
Hannah  had  fortunately  got  through  •  th 
present  diliiculties ;  chairs,  tables,  i...  cup- 
boards wer(i  in  their  jiroper  jilnce..,  and 
seemed  to  rest  content  that  tiiey  sliouhl  not 
get  such  another  overhauling  again  for  somo 
time. 

"  Why,  bless  me,  tnissus,  how  glud  I  nm 
that  you  are  back  ;  I  am  so  <ilad  you  did  not 
come  until  I  got  ov(>r  my  hurry:  and  tluifo 
goes  that  lazy  fellow,"  .said  she,  as  she  saw 
Bobert  driving  round  to  the  stable. 

"  Hannah,  pom- girl,"  said  Mrs.  Mannors,  ten- 
derly, as  she  looked  around  the  shining 
kitchen,  "  you  have  been  doing  loo  much,  too 
much  entirely  ;  you  are,  I  am  al'iaid.  too  anx- 
ious   about    thtse    trifling    mailers     and — " 

"Oh!  not  at  all,  ma'am,"  broke  in  Hannah. 
"  Why,  wi!  were  gelling  in  such  a  htiite  hero 
that   I  was   ashanievl  nivselt   to  look   at  tho 


EXETER    HALL. 


dust  and  cobwebs  ;  but  I  thought,  ma'am,  that 
you  were  fj^oinjif  to  wait  lbs  Mr.  Caiiel." 

"  So  I  was,  llunnah  ;  but  we  iK'ard  to-day,  at 
Mrs.  Baker's,  that  he  was  }j'*'"ff  to  call  hesre 
first  on  liis  return  from  the  circuit,  and  I 
thoiijrht  I  would  be  homo  to  meet  him." 

Mary  and  William,  and  Flounce  whiskinji; 
li's  bushy  tail,  now  followed  Mrs.  Manners 
from  room  to  room.  She  soon  encountered 
Mr.  Styles,  who  had  called  there  that  niornin  - 
to  pay  a  short  visit,  and  Mr.  Manners,  to  - 
terest  his  wile,  told  her  that  their  visitor  had 
been  formerly  a  travelinjif  ajrent  for  the 
American  Bible  Society;  he  know  that  Mr. 
Styles  could  jriv<!  her  a  {.^reat  d(;al  of  informa- 
tion about  the  state  and  i)rospects  of  rclicrion 
in  America,  but  ho  was  very  careful  for  the 
present  not  to  shock  her  by  relatiuff  how  the 
same  person  had  fallen  away  from  his  first 
love. 

Mrs.  Manners  was  very  much  pleased  ;  she 
fornret  many  other  thini^s  for  the  time,  and 
asked  fifty  dillerent  (questions  about  the  pro- 
gress of  Methodis!n  in  his  native  land ; 
whether  all  the  Indians  and  black  men  were 
converted,  and  whether  many  of  the  American 
saints  were  to  be  at  Exeter  Hall.  Samuel, 
having  Uarned  lu-.v  tendencies  from  Robert, 
was  careful  just  then  to  say  nothing  which 
might  cause  her  to  regret  his  presence  at 
ITampstead.  Slu;  told  hini  how  pleased  Mr. 
Capel  would  bo  to  liavo  an  opportunity  of 
meeting  him — he  was  a  devoted  minister,  in 
whom  she  liad  great  hopes.  And  then, 
best  of  all,  she  assured  Mr.  Styles  that,  as  ho 
was  just  in  tim((  for  tlie  great  anniversary 
meeting,  he  would  learn  at  Ex<!ter  Hall  what 
the  Ih'itish  Christians  were  doing,  and  what 
sacrifices  were  annually  made  by  them  for  the 
circulation  of  the  "  Word,"  and  for  the  con- 
version of  poor  benighted  heathens — she,  of 
course,  ineant  the  foreign  ones. 

During  that  quiet  forenoon,  Mr.  Manners 
and  Samuel  had  a  long  conver.<ation  ;  various 
topics  were  introduci'd — the  nunits  of  the  re- 
spective governnuMits  of  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States,  the  progressive  liljerality  of 
id(!as,  >ind  the  terrible  rule  of  jiriestcraft 
wliich  still  kept  its  icy  gripe  upon  the  gen- 
erous impulses  of  the  ])('oi)le  of  both  coun- 
tries, forcing  tht;  great  majority  yet  to  succumb 
to  the  puerilities  of  a  superstition  which 
would  have  been  long  sine  eftrte,  were  it  not 
f(ir  lh(!  constant  sup|)lies  that  it  extorted. 
Sanuwd  related  tlie  evidi'uce  he;  had  at  llie 
sale  for  church  rates,  and  the  instance  of 
])riestly  intolerance,  by  describing  the  scene 
«t  tlu!  cemetery.  Mr.  Manners  was  but  too 
familiar  with  such  acts  on  the  part  of  the 
state  paid  ]iriests:  and  thouuh  .\nu'rica  is  iih 
yet  almost  free  from  sucli  gross  usurpation, 
still,  even  intlie  n(!\v  world, there  can  be  found 
occasional  inslanc.'es  of  the  same  sjiirit,  one  of 
which  Sainui  I  remembered  to  have  taken 
placi!  i>t  a  churchyni'd  in  Pennsylvania.* 

Among  other  things,  h(^  was  ])articular  to 
give  Mr,  Manmu's  a  more  detailed  account,  (/f 
his  night  adveiituri;  in  company  with  Uohert. 
Ill'  tuKi  him  they  had  seen  Dr.  Muster  under 
the  archway,  how  tluy  hajl  followed  him  un- 

♦  III  Cheater. 


til  the  carriage  drove  away  after  midnight' 
and  when  he  handed  the  ])aper  which  he  be- 
li(!ved  the  doctor  had  dropped,  Mr.  Manners 
scrutinized  it  very  closely,  and  pronounced  the 
writing  to  be  Dr.  Buster's. 

"  This,"  said  Mr.  Manners,  with  a  slight  em- 
phasis, "  may  serve  as  an  important  clew  to 
his  transactions.  Ho  has  completely  evaded 
me  for  some  time  ;  this  very  paper  may,  i)er 
hapE,  enable  us  to  take  the  first  step  toward  a 
di^'^ovcry.  Dr  Buster  is  a  jiopular  man  in 
London,  but  he  shuns  me  ;  very  few  know  him 
as  I  do,  and  lie  knows  me.  He  is  a  saint  to 
some,  while  in  truth,  a  monster  of  cruelty." 

"  I  s.aw  that  ho  recognized  you  yesterday  on 
the  Strand,  I  kind  o'  think  you'll  not  forget 
the  heavenly  smile  he  gave  you." 

"  No,  not  readily  ;  it  is  seldom  indeed  that  I 
can  get  an  opportunity  of  seeing  that  gentle- 
man, unless  I  choose  to  enter  his  church.  I 
never  did  the  man  any  liaim,  but  I  believe  he 
is  a  tyrant,  and  will  yet  commit  some  diabol- 
ical act  if  he  is  not  legally  restrained,  or  hu- 
manized by  some  other  means." 

"Just  so,  or  by  a  trifling  assistance  from 
brute  force." 

"  Well,  any  suitable  force,  or  any  proper 
means  that  will  prevent  him  from  accom- 
plishing his  purpose  might  almost  be  resorted 
to  ;  I  have  learned,  partly  by  mere  chance  and 
partly  from  his  own  wife,  that  he  persecutes 
her,  hates  her,  and  will  soon  end  her  days,  un- 
less she  fiads  some  deliverance  ;  and  this  I  fear 
ho  will  manage  to  do  in  such  a  way  as  to  es- 
cape; legal  responsibility." 

"  That  will  be  his  game.  But  he  must  be 
w.^tched,  tracked,  circumvented,  and  finally 
S(pii'.?hed.  You  sec  chance  is  against  him  ;  it 
has  l(;d  you  to  find  one  of  his  qcM.lities,  it  has 
partly  shown  me  another,  and  I  want  no  bet- 
ter pastime  at  proisent  tlian  a  cltancc.  to  follow 
him  up  until  I  can  tree  him  sky  high." 

"Indeed,  I  think  you  will  be  an  excellent 
agent  for  that  purpose  ;  and  we  shall  try  and 
devise  some  plan  to  entrap  him,  for  I  have 
long  determined  to  stej)  between  him  and 
his  victun.  I  only  await  the  opportunity. 
W(5  hav(i  a  wily,  unscrupulous  man  to  dcsal 
with,  and  must  be  xovy  guarded  in  ouv  ap- 
proaches, or  h(!  will  d(>l('at  th"  liest  laid  plans. 
He  has  caused  it  to  be  circulated  thai  his  wife 
has  forsaken  her  children  and  himself;  there 
has  not  yet  been  a  trace  of  her  whereabouts, 
but  it  has  liecMi  suspected  by  myself  and  a  lev 
others,  that  the  unfortunate  woman  has  been 
deprived  of  her  liberty,  and  from  what  you 
have  lately  discovered  I  am  strongly  of  that 
opinion." 

'  W(>11,  wo  came  upon  him  rather  close,  I  im- 
agine; he  an't  alone,  though — he's  got  his 
tools,  male  and  femah^  Now,  just  give  me 
the  credentials.  I  want  to  bc!  a  kind  of  walk- 
ing gentleman,  or  any  thing  else  that  conioa 
handy,  for  a  month  or  two.  This  little  cir- 
cumstance interests  me  a  trifle;  just  i)ut  mo 
on  the  track,  and  I'm  etr."  So  saying,  Mr. 
[■■lyles  ()uickly  whiskcihone  hand  across  tho 
other,  as  if  to  illustrate  the  celerity  of  his  in- 
tended  movements. 

"I  stated,"  continued  AEr,  Manners,  "that 
tho  first  knowledge  I  had  of  Dr.  Muster's  ill 
troatiuent  to  his  wife  was  by  chance.     About 


■■«**. 


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EXETER    HALL. 


■y 


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^: 


Ki 


two  years  aijo,  I  was  crossinjr  the  Bristol  Chan- 
nel in  a  atoani  packet ;  it  was  during  a  fine 
summer's  nljjht ;  several  of  the  passengers  re- 
maincid  on  deck  ;  but  as  it  grew  later,  one  by 
one  went  below,  until  I  thoufrht  I  was  left 
alone.  The  air  v.'as  deliffhtfully  fresh.  I  felt 
no  inclination  for  sleep,  and,  havinor  paced  up 
and  down  for  some  time,  I  stretched  myself 
on  a  seat  or  bench  close  to  the  wheel-house 
and  was  tryinor  to  compose  myself,  when  I 
heard  a  discussion  between  two  persons  on  a 
relifjious  subject.  They  sat  or  stood  around 
a  corner,  out  of  my  view,  but  I  could  hear 
every  word  distinctly.  A  lady's  voice  asserted 
thatKiufj  David,  of  the  Old  Testament,  was, 
if  any  tiiinfr,  a  {jrcater  monster  of  cruelty  and 
wickedness  than  either  Moses  or  Joshua  ;  and 
after  recitinpf  some  of  his  murders,  treachery, 
and  misconduct,  declared  that  she  could  not 
believe  that  a  Supreme  Beiu<;  had  ever  con- 
nived at  such  infamy,  or  declared  that  such 
a  wretch  could  be  '  a  man  after  his  own 
h(«rt.' 

"  A  man's  voice  testily  n.-plied  that  sucli 
tliinjirs  wer(f  beyond  our  comprehension  ;  that 
we  must  take  the  account  as  we  found  it  in  the 
Bible.  It  was  inspired,  consequently  correct ; 
that  whether  David  repented  or  not,  God  could 
select  whom  ho  pleased  to  work  out  his  de- 
sifjns ;  he  could  make  one  vessel  to  honor 
and  anotlier  to  dishonor.  David  was  refer- 
red to  in  the  Scriptures  as  a  profjonitor  of  the 
Messiah,  whose  coming  was  established  by 
prophecy.  Prophecy  was  the  thinj;  that  had 
Hpread  confusion  among  sneering  infidels. 

"The  lady  contended  that  these  so-called 
prophecies  had  no  direct  reference  whatever 
to  a  Messiah,  and  that  even  such  a  conclusion 
Lad  been  formed  by  certain  commentators. 

The  man  then  replied  in  a  ])assionat(;  ton 
that  such  commentators  avouUI  meet  damn 
tion.  and  all  who  Ix^lieved  as  they  did.  He  tlu 
told  her  she  had  better  give  u])  the  Bil^le  al- 
togetiier ;  and  he  raised  his  voice  sufliciently 
loud  to  let  me  hear  im])recationsand  words  of 
anger,  and  then,  after  the  lady  had  made 
some  rei)ly,  I  was  startled  by  the'nf>i.so  of  a 
heavy  fall  on  the  deck,  and  I  ran  to  the  spot 
in  tim(i  to  see  the  stout  form  of  a  num  desct-nd 
the  cabin  stairs  and  to  assist  in  raising  the 
lady,  who  had  evidently  been  thrust  off  her 
feet.  She  was  bleeding  and  was  partly  con- 
fused, and  she  looked  around  and  at  me  as  if 
(Jrcatly  ashamed.  I  assured  her  that  I  was 
tlie  only  person  that  knew  any  tiling  of  the 
matter,  that  1  had  overheard  tlie  conversation 
which  led  to  such  violence,  and  after  having  as- 
sisted her  to  a  seat,  beggecl  her  to  allow  me 
to  get  some  water  to  wash  away  tli(>  blood. 
She  thankfully  d(M.']ined,  she  was  anxious  to 
retire  unseen,  and,  folding  a  shawl  over  her 
face,  ])('rniitted  mo  to  lead  her  as  far  as  the 
cabin  stairs.  In  about  two  or  three  minutes 
afterwanl,  the  same  stout  ])erson  came  on  deck 
again,  and,  when  he  saw  me,  was,  no  'loubt, 
susi)icious  that  I  had  witnessed  his  unmanly 
act.  I  stood  near  and  watched  him,  and  my 
indignation  at  his  conduct  was  so  great  tliat  I 
could  not  refrain  from  telling  him  tluvt  he 
ought  to  be  punished  for  what  he  had  done, 
and  that  1  wcuild  inf(jrui  the  captain  before 


we  left  the  vessel.  It  was  sufficiently  light 
to  e  .ble  nu'  to  see  his  features  ;  he  made  no 
reply,  but  gave  juc  one  angry  look  and  went 
quickly  away. 

"  Upon  inquiry  next  morning,  I  learned  that 
the  person  whom  I  recognized  as  the  probable 
aggressor  was  one  Dr.  Buster,  and  that  the 
lady  was  his  wife.  On  her  account,  I  did  not 
think  it  prudent  to  mention  any  thing  about 
the  violent  act  which  I  was  satisfied  he  had 
committed.  I  saw  that  he  tried  to  avoid  me, 
but  when  we  arrived  in  London  I  Bto<3d  at  the 
ship's  side  and  watched  him  pass  out  ;  he 
recognized  me  and  frown(ul,  and  as  he  strode 
hurriedly  away  he  left  his  wife  to  follow  as 
best  she  could. 

"  It  Avas  s(mie  months  afterward,  and  I  had 
almost  forgotten  the  circumstance,  when  I 
ha])])ened  to  read  in  one  of  the  numerous  re- 
ligious ]iapers  of  the  city  that  a  course  of 
lectures  on  the  Apocalypse  and  on  the  prophe- 
cies of  Daniel  were  to  be  d(  livered  by  a  cer- 
tain Dr.  Buster.  The  paper  lauded  his  piety 
and  ability  in  the  highest  terms.  The  name 
recalled  the  circumstance  on  the  vessel,  and, 
curious  to  learn  whether  it  was  the  sannj  per- 
son, I  went  to  town  and  purchased  a  ticket. — 
it  was  not  a  free  lecture ;  and  as  I  loitered 
outside  the  church-door,  a  carriage  drove  up, 
out  of  which  stepped  the  identical  doctor  that 
I  expected.  He  looked  me  full  in  the  face  ;  I 
saw  a  change  of  expression  ;  but  he  jmssed  in, 
determined  not  to  know  me,  or  to  make  mo 
bt^lieve  that  it  must  have  been  some  one 
else — that  he  could  do  nothing  derogatory  to 
his  character  as  a  minister.  1  was,  however, 
satisfied,  and  did  not  remain  to  hear  the  lec- 
ture. 

"  You  might  have  heard  at  the  Red  Lion 
that  there  are  a  very  great  number  of  Secularists 
in  and  about  London.  I  profess  to  be  one  of 
iliat  class  ;  we  have  several  halls  and  lecture- 
rooms  in  which  religious  and  utilitarian  sub- 
jects are  freely  discussed  in  an  orderly  man 
ner.  These  discussions  have  beiju  productive 
of  great  benefit,  and  many  church-members 
and  other  persons,  troubled  with  religions 
doubts,  or  curious  to  learn  our  particular 
views,  attend  such  meetings  ;  somtitimes 
privately,  in  onhjr  to  hear  our  objections 
against  Christianity,  occasionally  to  try  and. 
refute  them,  and  to  a.-certain  what  wo  think 
on  relative  subjects  ;  for  of  course  you  are 
aware,  that  so  careful  ar(!  tlm  ])riests  of  their 
creed,  in  such  dread  do  they  hold  free  inv(!8ti- 
gation,  that  books  written  against  them  or 
their  faitli  are  denounced,  aixl  their  authors 
calumniated.  Among  tluinuiny  who  attended, 
there  was  one  lady  who  appeared  anxious  to 
remaiti  uiduiown,  and  she  niiglithave  d(me  so 
were  it  not  that  she  was  recognized  omi  «'ven- 
ing  leavir,.;  !,>•..];  11  by  some*  d"Vout  cliurch- 
memb'.rs  who  were  V.  at'hing  cnitside,  for  the 
purp'.si  r  Mscovciiny  who  were  falling 
away  an''  j'ov'n;.'  r' i'i"i.>;.nt  to  the  faith. 
•  •reatwijs  il  e  sur^rite  .len  it  was  leanuni 
ihat  tl'o  h.ily  w,''H  die  wifoof  one  of  the  princi- 
pal dissenting  in'mirlcrs  of  the  city,  and  true 
to  their  mission  tin-  orthodox  chMectives  made 
an  immediate  ie)i(irt  to  her  husband  ;  and  the 
Kov.    l>r.    Uuster  apiuared  to  be  greatly  d*^ 


EXETER    HALL. 


8S 


pressed,  greatly  humiliated,  and  in  deep  af- 
fliction by  this  woeful  proof  of  his  wife's  reli- 
gious (lejifcneraey, 

"As  for  her,  slie  had  been  lonj?  susjjecledfjf 
inditterence  tocliurcli  inattcrri.  Cluirch-iroinfr 
ladies  said  she  was  not  like  a  niinistei's  wife  ; 
slio  was  never  sei-n  lit  prayer-nieetiufiH,  never 
at  SundaN'-scliools,  was  no  traclarian,  did  not 
jret  u|>  niissioimiT  tcirnieetinfrs,  or,  in  fact, 
iiite-i'st  hiM'self  in  any  of  {\i(\  nuinrrous  devices 
for  raisiuff  nioiKiy  for  thesjjrcad  of  tlu'dospcl, 
or  to  increase  the  blender  resources  of  her 
pious  husband.  She  was  known  to  be  studi- 
ous and  thouo;htful,of  iinin()uirin^r  mind,  and 
very  Ijcnevolent  to  sucb  needy  a])plicants  as 
craved  more  for  actual  food  than  they  did  for 
the  scriiitural  'bread  of  life,' 

"  In  iier  domestic  capacity,  she  could  not  be 
excelled.  She  had  tvo  children,  and  i)roved 
herself  a  most  affectionate  mother;  but  alas! 
her  want  of  faith  had  robbed  hen-  of  any  love 
her  husband  miobt  have  had  for  her,  and 
thouffh  attectintr  before  members  of  his  church 
to  be  most  consid(;rate  toward  her,  it  was 
well  known  that  his  dislike {jrewstroutrer  and 
Rtronffer,  until  iit  last  his  hatred  made  her 
life  miserable.  It  was  then  rumored  that  her 
mind  was  atl'ected  ;  insanity  could  be  traced  in 
ln>r  family  ;  for  the  idea  was  considered  most 
absurd,  to  8iip])oso  that  a  person  relifriously 
l)rouo:ht  up  as  she  had  been,  carefully  trained 
in  youth,  and  then  daily  and  hourly  the  reci- 
pient of  spiritual  knowledfre  under  the  teach- 
inpf  ot  such  a  husband,  could  ever  ])ossibly  be- 
come Hke])tical  while  under  the  guidance  of  a 
sound  miu<l. 

"  There  would  be  no  great  difficulty  in  tra- 
cing the  authorship  of  such  a  re|)uted  mental 
frailty.  In  difference  to  the  feelings  of  the 
reverend  doctor,  the  rumor  was  charitably  ac- 
ce])ted  as  truth,  butalas  !  how  uncharitably  for 
his  wife.  She  well  knew  that  this  sul)terfuge, 
if  not  counteracted,  would  accomplish  her 
ruin  ;  and  as  week  after  we(?k  jiassed,  when 
she  found  herst'lf  neglected,  spurned,  and 
treatcid  with  contempt,  she  was  almost  on  the 
verge  of  de8])air.  SShe  knew  there  was  but 
little  if  any  sympathy  for  unbelievers  among 
the  positivi!  class  of  C'hristians  which  were  uu 
der  her  husbands  control,  that  at  l)est  she; 
would   be  treated  as  a  kind  ft'  monomaniac. 


when  she  bethought 


t'.io  secularists;   she 


had   heard  of  my  nuui-j   in  connection  with 
S         that  organization,  and  1  received  througli  the  I 
m         po.st  this  letter."     Hen!  Mr.  Manners  took  a 
$1         letter  from  a  small  drawer,  and  read  : 

[|  '"Dear  Sin:  One  who  is  greatly  iiersecu- 

|->  ted  on  account  of  her  religious  ojiiuions,  and  ! 

[A  who  fi'ars  actual  violence,  would  wish  to  con-  | 

^'^'  suit  with  you.  An  interview  is  imrticularlv  j 
de.sired.  A  letter  addn's.sed  t(»  E.  C.  M.,  ob  i 
Totteuham  Court  Hoad,  will  reacli  me.  } 

P.S. —  If  convenient,  an  ir\terview  an  'IMuirs- 
day  lu'xt,  betwei  n  two  and  live  i'.>r ,  would 
bo  most  suitable  for  nu'.  A  Fjuknd. 

'"June  nth.' 

"  I  fient  a  reply  I  think  t1ie  same  evening  ;  \ 
and  on  the  folhiwing  'i'hursday  I  met  her  at  i 
the  lioiise  of  a  private  friend,  and  I  war.  sur- j 
prised  to  find  that  bIio  was  the  » ery  person  | 


whom  I  had  so  singularly  met  on  the  steam- 
boat. She  would  not  have  recognized  me 
from  that  circumstance, but  when  1  mentioned 
I  it,  she  again  expressed  lier  thanks,  and  told 
me  that  the  treatmc.T.t  which  she  had  then  re- 
ceived was  but  the  ccnnmencement  of  far 
worse  outragi's;  tliat  not  only  was  she  al)used 
herself,  but,  to  add  to  her  agony,  her  liusband 
would  threaten  and  terrify  the  children,  until 
they  actiuilly  dreaded  his  approach.  She  said 
it  was  evident  that  he  wished  to  nuxke  her  out 
insane,  and  unfit  to  be  left  without  some  re- 
straint, lie  liad  already  sent  the  children 
away,  and  slie  had  good  reason  to  fear  that 
some!  (;vil  toward  herself  was  premeditated. 

"  I  gavf^  Ikm'  the  l)est  advice  I  coi.id  at  the 
time,  told  her  if  any  fuvtlur  vtoUuce  was 
committed,  or  any  probability  of  such,  to 
make  her  escape  at  once  ;  tluit  I  would  leave 
word  with  John  lloUis,  at  the  Red  Lion,  to 
tak(j  her  under  his  protection,  until  In;  could 
send  for  mii ;  and  that  afterward  I  would  use 
every  possible  method  to  .secure  her  from  mo- 
lestation. She  was  very  grateful.  I  told  her 
that  before  I  went  home  I  would  consult  some 
friends,  and  write  to  her  more;  fully  next  day, 
and  that  I  would  meet  her  again  in  a  week  ; 
but  if  any  thing  happened  in  the  mean  time, 
she  was  to  do  as  I  had  directed. 

"  I  called  on  the  landlord  of  the  Red  Lion 
the  same  (ivening,  and  h»d  evcny  thing  arran- 
ged. I  also  mcit  a  few  friends  in  town,  and 
related  as  much  of  the  matter  as  was  neces- 
sary to  enlist  their  protection  in  case  it  should 
be  required.  Next  day  I  sent  her  another  let- 
ter, and,  at  the  appointed  tinu;  wl\en  I  called 
again,  instead  of  meeting  the  doctor's  wife, 
I  actually  met  the  doctor  himself!" 

"  A  very  agreeable  surprise,  no  doubt,"  said 
Samuel. 

"  Not  so  agreeable  as  I  could  have  desired. 
With  the  coolest  assurance  he  told  nie  that  I 
had  brought  a  scandal  upon  the  once  fair 
name  of  his  wife,  that  my  vile  teaching  had 
corrupted  her  mind,  and  tliat  lie  sui)posed  she 
had  already  taken  nd'uge  in  that  very  respec- 
table rendezvous,  the  Red  Lion,  iu  accordance 
with  my  letter  of  instructions ;  and  liere  to 
my  surprise  he  coolly  unfolded  the  letter,  and 
I  saw  my  own  signature." 

"  I  took  a  moment  for  reflection  ;  I  supposed 
that  both  she  and  1  had  been  betrayed.  The 
woman  in  whose  house  we  were,  and  who  was 
present  during  my  interview  with  the  doc- 
tor's wife,  was  now  absent,  and  I  felt  some- 
what embarrassed  by  the  awkwardness  of  my 
])osition.  I,  how(>ver,  replied  that  he  must 
know  he  was  stating  wluit  was  not  correct ; 
that  I  had  but  two  interviews  with  his  wife 
in  the  course  of  my  life — the  first  on  board 
the  Hristol  packet  when  he  had  abused  her, 
till'  last  but  a  week  ago  in  that  room.  \Vhen 
I  mentioned  that  he  had  abused,  or  had  struck 
his  wife.he  jumix'd  up  and  violently  exclaimed 
while  holding  his  shut  fist  !)efore  nie  in  a 
tlireateniiig  attiiude,  "  It's  false,  it's  false,  you 
uev(!r  saw  me  do  it." 

"  '  Well,  sir,'  said  I, '  if  I  ilid  not  see  yon  do  it, 
I  heard  somethiugof  your  violence,  and  T  after- 
ward saw  the  effects  of  your  mode,  of  argu- 
ment, and  I  now  believ(^  that  you  intend  to 
follow  up  thai  particular  method  ofcoi/ibHlinjj 


4-  " 


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EXETER    HALL. 


( .■»  >'.' 


h 


error  by  persecuting  one  whom  you  should 
clierish.' 

"  '  See  here,'  Paid  he,  liolding  out  my  letter 
at  arm's  Icnffth, '  I  possieas  in  this  damninjr  evi- 
dence ajfainst  ?/(/iir  principles  of  honor.  If  you 
dare  to  deal  in  vile  misrepresentations,  I  have 
this  fact  to  refute  your  atisertions,  and  your 
honored  name  subscribed  in  attestation.  Now, 
proceed  if  you  dare.' 

"  His  teeth  were  clinched  fast  when  he  utter- 
ed these  words,  and  as  he  waved  the  letter 
violently  befori  me,  ho  looked  like  one  of 
Milton's'  fallen  angels,  or  the  impersonation 
of  S.itan  himself. 

"  '  I  know  not  what  your  threat  means,'  I  re- 
plied, '  nor  how  you  may  distort  the  meaning 
of  that  letter ;  but  remember,  you  will  yet  be 
held  responsible  for  the  crime  you  are  about 
to  commit  ;  or,  if  tlie  act  has  been  already  per- 
IX'trated,  there  may  be  sufficient  evidence  to 
test  your  religious  scrui)les  in  a  court  of  law.' 
"  '  You  talk  of  religion  or  law,'  said  he, 
giving  the  mock  laugh  of  a  fury,  while  his 
eyes  siiemed  like  skulking  fiends  ready  with 
some  fulminating  substance  for  my  annihila- 
tion. '  You,  with  an  infidel  heart  and  b(jdy 
without  a  soul,  you  talk  about  crime  !  Go,' 
said  he,  pointing  to  the  door,  'go  rnd  teach 
virtue  to  the  wretch  who  has  sought  your  pro 
tection,  teach  her  myrc  of  your  infernal  prin- 
ciples, until  she  is  tit  to  graduate  among  a  class 
of  Tom  Paines,  and  Voltaires  and  3oling- 
brokes,  and  like  them,  die  in  the  pangs  of 
remorse,  and  meet  with  their  final  damna- 
ti(m.' 

"  If  his  curses  were  blessings  in  disguise,  they 
could  not  be  more  liarmless  so  far  as  I  was  con- 
cerned. I  saw  what  ho  was  driiting  at,  he 
wished  t<>  make  dic  think  that  his  wife  had 
left  her  h(mie,  and  tliat  lie  believed  she  was 
un<ler  \iiy  protection.  Before  I  went  out,  I 
told  him  Unit  1  was  not  deceived,  that  I  well 
undeffilood  his  object,  and  that  there  might 
be  a  reckoning  between  us  at  some  future 
day. 

"  How  he  became  possessed  of  my  letter,  I 
know  not.     Unfortunately,  I  did  not  keep  a 
copy  of  it,  it  was  written  in  haste,  but  I  am 
not  aware  that  there  was  any  thing  in  it  that 
could  compromise  me.     I  think  I  recommend- 
ed her  to  leave  her  prison-like  home  for  a  time, 
and  tiuit  I  wcnild  see  that  she  had  suitabh! 
protection  from  tin;  designs  of  her  husband.     I 
"  Something  must  have  happened  to  her ;  I 
never  heard  from  her  afterward.     Since  tiiat 
time,  it  has  been  circulated  that  she  left  lier ! 
husband  and  children.     Imjuiry  was  made  for  I 
her  among  her  relatives  in  Bristol,  and  search  ! 
was  made  at  other  places,  but  no  trace  of  her  [ 
could  be  found.     As  she  had  sullicient  means  j 
of  her  own,  some   of  the   i)ious  ladies  and  I 
members  of  her  husband's  'congregation  su])-  j 
pose  that  she  is  living  ])iivati'ly  with  some  i 
friends,  or   jierhaps   among   the  Secularists  ; ' 
while  many,  outside  the  pule  of  the  iloctor's 
influence,  think  that  lie  lm«  lU-r  securely  un- 1 
drr  luck  :ind  key,  eitl'iiT  to  shorten  her  exis- 1 
tejico,  or  force  her  to  abjure  the  errors  of  un  | 
unl)elief  wliieh  I.iis  brought   .so  much  misery; 
toiler,  luit  wliiili  lins  gaine(i  so  many  ]irayers, 
and  f^o  iiiiicli  sympathy  for  him. 

"  1  did  not  see  the  doctor  j'.florward  until  tlie  . 


[  day  we  encountered  each  other  on  the  Strand  ; 
you  werc!  a  witness  of  that  friendly  recogni- 
tion.! Tf  I  ever  meet  him  again,  it  may  be  to 
assist  i  i'<mvicting  him  of  such  inhumani- 
ty as  w  truly  exhibit  the  meaning  of  his 
piety  to  Li,(    world." 

"  Guess  I'll  try  and  meet  liim  again,"  said 
Mr.  Styles;  "  I  tracked  him  once  in  the  rain 
and  dark,  but  it  didn't  anujunt  to  much.  I'll 
try  him  again,  and  see  if  I  can't  trot  him  out 
in  broad  daylight,  so  that  his  admiring  IVnialo 
saints,  when  they  see  his  elegant  qualities  in 
perfectio.j,  may  wish  him  away  up  out  of 
sight,  with  Elijah;  or  u|),  or  down,  or  any- 
where else,  but  in  the  vi.-l vet-cushioned  ]hi1- 
pits  they  made  so  soft  for  him  in  the  Presby- 
terian churches  of  Londcjn." 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

The  evening  sun  sent  its  red  beams  slant- 
ing down  upon  llampstead,  and  nearly 
every  window  in  Heath  Cottage  b!az(!d  in  the 
nuldy  light.  Troops  of  children  were  at  i)lay 
by  the  roadsidt^  ami  workmen,  after  having 
l)artaken  of  their  frugal  meal,  sat  each  by  his 
open  door  in  the  sunset,  enjoying  that  calm 
hour  after  the  labors  of  the  day.  Lowing 
cattle  in  tlie  distant  fields  could  be  seen  wind- 
ing homeward,  follow(!d  here  and  tluire  by 
cheerful  milkmaids  carrying  their  white  i)ai]s 
while  humniing  sonu'  favorite  air  as  they  went 
along.  A  thousand  birds  sung  and  Muttered 
in  gardens  and  among  (U'chard  blossoms,  and 
the  mellow  notes  of  the  thrush,  and  robin 
could  be  heard,  as  if  bidding  farewell  to  tho 
fading  day. 

It  was  a  calm  hour,  <me  which  predisposes 
for  rest  or  for  soothing  thought.  At  such  a 
season,  even  care  seems  to  loosen  its  hold,  and, 
under  the  milder  influence,  the  heart  which 
has  long  been  burdened  with  sorrow  dreams 
of  hope  again.  In  the  tender  light  of  eve, 
nuunory  loves  to  wander  back  once  nu)re  to 
the  mountain,  or  stream,  or  green  Held  of 
youth,  aiul  the  faces  and  smiles  of  friends  of 
earlier  years  return  again  to  greet  us. 

Looking  down  upon  llampstead — as  Mr. 
Capel  now  was  from  tlui  brow  of  a  snuiU  hill 
which  he  had  just  ascended — one  might  havo 
lijigered  a  moment  or  two,  as  ho  did,  to 
survey  tin;  rich  landscajui  spread  out  before 
him.  The  view  olitained  was  very  attractive, 
and  while  musing  ujmui  the  variety  of  com- 
binations which  formed  the  natural  ))icture, 
tho  y(»ung  preacher  forgot  teinjiorary  troubles, 
and  his  nu-mory  also  wanilere<l — but  not  to  ii 
vi'ry  rtsmote  period — neither  was  his  fancy 
as  excursive  as  at  t)ther  times.  He  glanced 
at  the  village  church  with  its  ivied  walks, 
glowing  windows,  and  old  gray  steej)le  ;  at 
houses  and  gardens,  fields  and  mansions ; 
at  the  shadows  on  the  diniaut  hills,  and  then 
back  again  to  Heath  C(jttag»',  wheit;  his  eytiS 
riiinained  fixed.  He  couUl  ga/e  without 
tiring  tm  that  ([uiet  >pot  ;  it  wa.-«the  principal 
oi)ject  in  the  ))icture  to  him,  ami,  wliih;  lhii.H 
looking,  he,  thought  of  its  inmates,  mmI  of 
their  diilerenl  cluirachMS  ;  of  the  crethdous 
visionary,   Mrs.   Muuuors,   of   her  gtaii'rous, 


EXETEll    HALL. 


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i 


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noble-minded  husband,  and  of  one  other,  to 
whom  his  tlioajrlits  would  stray  ev<;n  while 
he  tried  to  keep  them  confined  to  the  nit^ntal 
problems  whic.li  often  kei)t  him  restless  and 
v/averiuiy.  lie  could  not  but  admit  that 
were  all  the  matrons  to  become  like  Mrs. 
Mannors,  there  would  be  a  sad  retrojjression — 
she  could  now  boast  of  havinjr  become  more 
alienated  from  the  world,  and  it  was  evident 
that  her  worldly  affairs,  as  far  as  she  was 
concerned,  were  to  be  allowed  to  take  care  of 
themselves.  What  a  contrast,  betwet'U  her  and 
the  reasoninf?  utilitarian,  Martin  Mannors ! 
It  was  his  desire  so  to  im])rove  matters  in  this 
sublunary  s:ate  as  to  nuike  every  human  be- 
iny:  as  happy  as  possible.  ^Vere  there  more 
of  his  kind,  the  query  arose,  whether  mankind 
would  or  would  not  be  better  prepared  for  a 
futuic  existence  than  they  are  now,  under  the 
influence  of  a  class  who  formally  denounce 
"  pomps  and  vanities,"  but  Ix'ueath  whose 
Bway  for  centuries  crime  has  so  increascnl,  and 
liuman  misery  become!  so  extended.  And  then 
ho  thoufjflit,  were  the  "  an<rels  of  lioht "  as 
pure  ami  nolih;  and  as  disinterested  as  the 
anfrel  within  that  dwellinjj  (but  he  shrunk 
from  the  i)i()fane  idea)  that  heav(>u  would  be 
more  worthy  of  his  aspirations. 

"  Beirorra  !  Harry,  but  you're  in  a  brown 
Btudy,"  said  a  friendly  voice,  almost  at  his 
elbow.  "  ^i^'aith,  if  preaching  adds  such  a 
lamblike  expression  to  your  countenance,  you 
may  expect  it  to  approach  downriji'ht  sheepish- 
ness  by  flie  time  you're  fit  for  the  apostolic 
Swaddlers  to  lay  hands  upon  you." 

Mr.  Capel  turned  suddenly  round,  and  was 
Bur|)rised  to  see  his  old  friend,  the  I?ev.  Father 
Thomas  Mctilinn,  with  his  cheerful  red  face, 
sittinp:  in  a  0ix,  surveyinjj;  him  from  head  to 
foot,  while  a  jrood-uatured  smile  lit  up  his 
jovial  countenance. 

"  Why  Fath(!r  Tom,  I'm  very,  very  pflad  to 
Bee  you." 

"  I  know  you  are.  Harry,  but  you  blush  like 
a  ffirl.  Sure,  you  don't  mind  what  1  say.  I'd 
blush  tof),  I  thinlc,  if  1  had  such  a  pair  of  sad- 
dle bags  daufrling  behind  me.  IJarring  them 
things,  you  put  me  a  good  deal  in  mind  of 
your  p  )or  father,  Uod  rest  his  sowl !" 

"Amen,  Father  Tom.  I  know  you  and  lu; 
were  great  friends,  and  I  ofren  wished  to  see 
you.  I  went  down  the  other  day  to  find  you, 
but  I  heard  you  had  gone*  over  to  Ireland  for 
a  few  days.  I  was  so  sorry  1  didn't  know  of 
your  Intention  sooner." 

"Faith,  I  wish  you  had,  \mt  I  went  off  in  a 
liurry.  I  got  a  letter  stating  that  poor  Billy 
Doolan  of  Biackpoul  was  in  the  last  stage  of 
consumption — y(»u  knew  my  cousin  Billy — 
and  sun-  the  divil  a  one  but  my  own  four 
bones  would  do  him  to  administer  Extreiiw 
Unctiiiii  to  him ;  well,  if  it  did  the  poor 
crayther  any  good,  I  don't  begrudge  the 
trouble." 

"  I  kiu'w  poor  Billy  well,  and  am  glad  you 

'  went  to  SIM)  him;  it  was  jiwr  lik<'  what  you 

would  do.  Father  Tom  ;  but  you  ciiri  scarcely 

doubt  the  etlicacy  of  your  own  rites'.'"  said 

Mr.  ("apel,  looking  with  atfcted  8iir|trise." 

"  Oil !  no,  oh  !  MO,  not  tlir  h'ast,"siiiii  I'^ither 
Mc()llini\,  giving  a  slight  cough,  whil'  the 
tips  of  his  cheeks  hecame  if  possible  a  little 


redder  than  iisnal.  "  You  know  I  sometimes 
talk  at  random,  Harry ;  your  poor  fatluT  knew 
that.  Tliere's  but  one  true  church,  and  what- 
ever she  directs  is  right."  He  sjioko  these 
words  in  such  a  manner  as  if  intended  to  reas- 
sure himself.  "  But,  Harry,  different  as  our 
creeds  or  calling  may  be,  you  and  I  must  never 
discuss  religion.  There  was  a  solenm  agree- 
ment of  the  sanu^  kind  between  your  father  and 
myself,  and,  faith,  it  worked  well — anyhow  he 
didn't  bother  his  brains  much  about  hell  or 
heaven  or  purgatory,  and  God  knows  I  wish 
we  had  more  like  him." 

"I  wish  there  were  more  like  him,  I  ^ish 
there  were.  Father  Tom.  I  think  of  him  now 
oftener  tlian  ever,  and  oh  !  how  I  many  a  time 
have  wished  that  some  Christian  men  and 
ministers  had  even  the  hearts  of  so-called 
pagans,  what  a  gain  it  would  be  for  humani- 
ty !"  Mr.  Capel's  eyes  ahuost  filled  with  tears 
as  lie  said  this,  and  Father  McUlinn  startid  at 
him  a  moment  or  two  in  evident  suri)riso. 

"  'Pon  my  sowl,  Harry,  but  that  smacks  a 
good  deal  of  your  lather ;  you've  got  his 
features,  and  I  think  you're  rising  to  his  ideas. 
Go  on  that  way  a  little  longer,  (iric/i,  and 
you'll  know  something  of  the  Bull  in  cmna 
'j)o)inni,  at  least  the  Methodist  interpretation 
of  it.  But  tell  me,  Harry,"  continued  the 
priest,  in  a  tone  of  great  kindness,  "  do  they 
use  you  well  Y  where  do  they  keep  you  ?  and 
is  tliat  what  you're  at  evi-ry  day  V  sakl  he. 
pointing  significantly  to  the  horse  and  saddle- 
bags. 

"  Not  every  day ;  I  have  just  been  over  the 
circuit.  I  left  here  about  ten  days  since,  and 
am  now  returning.  I  may  not  go  out  again 
for  another  wec^k — perhaps  longer  ;"  and  the 
priest  noticed  the  troubled  look  which  almost 
forced  him  to  articulate  the  words — "  perhaps 
never."' 

"  I  fear  they  don't  use  you  well,"  interrupted 
Father  McGIinn.  "  The  English  don't  like  us, 
Harry — never  will  like  us — they  haven't  the 
same  warm  feelings  that  we  liave.  The  rave- 
nous clergy  of  the  Establishment  have  robbed 
and  plundered  poor  Ireland  until  there's  little 
left,  and  take  my  word  for  it  they're  going  to  do 
the  same  here,  or  I'm  much  mistaken  ;  though 
there's  some  hr.pe,  as  the  Chartists  aren't  all 
dead  yet.  But  tell  me,  how  do  they  treat 
youV" 

"  Indeed,  Father  Tom,  I  cnn't  complain  of 
bad  tvemtment ;  on  the  contrary,  I  have  found 
the  i)eople  very  kind.  "I'is  true  they  e'lhibit 
their  friendship  in  a  difierent  manner  from 
what  our  country  people  do,  but,  so  far,  1  have 
nothing  to  say  against  English  hospitality — 
nothing  indeed.  But,  Father  Tom,  don't  you 
think  the  clergy  of  one  church  would  he  just 
as  bad  as  those  of  another,  either  for  Ireland 
or  for  this  country,  or  for  any  other  country — 
that  is,  if  they  all  had  the  sanu'  chance — all 
Oh  an  e<iuality  V  I've  thought  ilie  matter  over- 
lately,  and  I  am  inclined  to  this  oi)iinon." 

"  Lately,  have  you,"  said  Fatlnr  McGlinr^ 
musing  ;  "  and  do  you  include  tlie  Uanters  and 
Swaddlers  among  the  rest'.'  You  know  ire 
look  upon  these  as  bastards — upstarts — but 
faith  they're  beginning  to  liold  np  their  heads, 
as  high  as  thi'  l)est  ol'  us  — the  Swaddlers  are 
at  any  rate.     Sure  it's  only  the  other  day  I, 


■^^ 


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'--»... 


li-  '<i 


88 


EXETER    HALL. 


c--' 


heard  of— ocli !  bother — what's  his  name — I 
can't  think  of  it  now — but,  anyway,  a  chap 
that  calls  liimself  a '  Metliodist^j^/Aw/;,'  niarch- 
injjf  into  his  conventicle  with  all  the  airs  of  n 
cardinal,  and  steppiiifj  up  into  his  elejjant  pul- 
pit decked  in  fj(nn)i,  and  hirmls.  ^Vhy,  (jod 
bless  the  mark  !  I  would  ju8t  as  soon  exj)ect  to 
Bee  a  Quaker  in  re<^inientals.  Now,  with  all 
their  mock  hunulity,  and  sanctity,  and  their  pity 
for  the  deluded  of  Knfjland  and  Rome,  only 
give  these  same  creatures  wealth  and  nuiulxMS, 
and  theu,  cccc  sif/iuiin,  they  actpiire  the  clerical 
animus,  aud  tlu;  inllated  Swaddler  who  nuiy 
ha«!  be<)un  lile  on  a  kish  of  turf  now  turns 
up  his  nose  if  you  call  him  a  '  prcacJier,'  and 
hobbles  into  the  sunli<rht  as  a  '  reverend  cler- 
gyman.'    What  d'ye  think  of  that  V" 

"  You  art-  very  severe !  but  'tis  too  true — too 
true — all  from  the  same  ppirit  of  arroffance. 
J3ut,Fatlier  Tom,''  said  Mr.  Capel,  after  a  pause, 
and  suddenly  chan<rin<jr  the  conversation,  "  I 
want  to  have  a  lon^>',  lon<r  talk  with  you  some 
day.  I  do  not  hesitate;  to  say  to  you  that  you 
are  fi.r  better  informed  on  many  subjects  than 
I  am,  and  there  are  many  questions  which 
have  troubled  me  lately  —  problems  which 
you  may  be  al)le  to  solve,  and  doubts  which 
perplex  me  very  much,  that  your  su])erior 
knowledfje  may  remove.  I'm  not  afraid  to 
tell  this  to  you." 

"Questions,  problems,  doubts,  all  troublinrr 
you,  "and  lately  too.  Pray,"  '  said  Father 
Mclilinn,  strai^hteninfj  himself  up,  and  as- 
sumintf  to  be  very'^^mrticular,  "  do  the,se 
partake  of  a  scit-ntitic,  nii^taphysical,  or  theolo- 
gical tendency  V  if  of  the  two  former,  I  shall 
have  mucli  pleasure  in  a  rehearsal  with  j'ou  ; 
if  of  the  hitter,  of  course  you  would  not  con- 
sult me — a  I'apist."  And  here  the  priest  made 
a  low  bow  of  mock  humility. 

"  I  will  consult  you,"  said  Jfr.  Capel  eafjer- 
ly — "'I  will  know  what  you  think.  1  would 
rather  ji'o  to  you,  P'ather  Tom,  than  to  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  My  duuhts  nre 
theological,  and  I  know  you  will  set  me  ri<>fht, 
if  you  can.  1  will  go  to  you  ;  1  would  ratlier 
confess  to  you,  now,  than  to  any  one  else  in  the 
world." 

"^V(■11,  then,  my  child,"  said  the  ])riest, 
B])eakii)<f  very  tenderly,"  if  you  confess  tonif^, 
you  \\\\\  be  sure  of  my  ]  oor  a])Soluiinn  ;  siicli 
aa  It  is,  you  shall  have  it,  and  then,"  said  he, 
in  a  low,  contideutitd  tone,  '•  I  may  make  a 
more  startling  confession  to  yon.  But  who  is 
to  absolve  meV  \Vlu)V  You  will.  Ay,  but  tin- 
Pope  won't.  You  must  never  doubt  liin  iorm 
of  truth;  if  you  do,  you're  damni'd  !  Ah  I 
Harry,  twenty  years  ago  f  learned  some  of  my 
doubts  IVoni  your  ])<)or  father,  and  I  liave  car- 
ried them  along  with  me  ever  sin<'e  ;  and  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  forever  and  ever." 

"Father  'I'om,"  saifl  Mr. ''npel  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  "  when  can  1  sec  you  after  to- 
day V" 

"When?  Any  time  you  like,  almoKt.  Pome- 
times  they  send  nn-  out  to  jnils  and  ])ris(Uis, 
and  such  places;  for  i  in  no  gi'eat  iavciite 
will)  the  bisb(![),  and  he  adds  tliese  appoint 
menls,  I  suppose,  by  I  he  way  of  [lenance. 
Milt  I  don't  mind  knoekiiig  iiliout  in  the  Cnsh 
air,  if  I  hadn't  to  visit  cells,  nndglooiny  places, 
uuioug  criminuls  aud  half  idiots.    Pll  tell  you 


Ilarrv,  could  you  rido  out   with    mo  some 

day  v'" 

"  I  could.     What  day  do  you  say  V" 

"  I  d(m't  know  yet,  until  I  get  l)ack.  If 
you  come  to  Moorfields,  ten  chances  to  ono 
but  we'd  have  half  a  dozen  ])riests  around  us  ; 
and  as  they  are  a  little  suspicious  of  mo  at 
times,  they'd  1)emore  so  if  they  saw  me  cheek  by 
jowl  with  you  and  your  white;  choker  ;  lavt< 
that  thing  ott'.  No,  Harry,  'twould  be  a  bad 
place  for  a  priest  and  a  Swaildler  to  mec^t." 

"  Nanus  your  day,  then.  Father  Tom.  Wo 
can  ride,  I  would  prefer  it." 

''  Let  me  see — Monday,  Tuesday  .Wednesday. 
Where  do  you  live,  Harry  "^  herealiouts,  some- 
where, isn't'  it?  I  think  we  may  try  't  on 
Friday.  You'd  have  no  objection  to  a  beef- 
steak <m  that  day,  neither  woe.ld  I  for  the 
matter  of  that ;  but  we  must,  keep  this  to  our- 
selves. So  we  can  have  a  long  chat  and  a 
beelsteak  and  trimmings  somewhere  in  town 
in  the  evening,  eh  ?" 

"That  will  b'j  excellent.  Friday  will 
answer  me  better  than  any  otlur  day  next 
week.  See,  there's  where;  my  temporary  home 
is.  Father  Tom."  And  Mr.  Capel  pointed  to 
Heath  Cottage,  with  its  burnislied  window,s, 
fine  shade  trees,  and  pleasant  garden  ;  and 
just  as  they  wereadndringlhe  cheerful  home- 
stead, the  sun's  liiigt  'ing  rays  struck  tho 
spray  of  the  little  fountain,  forming  a  beauti- 
ful tiny  rainbow%  and  now  and  then  as  the  jet 
gushed  higher,  it  seemed  to  beckon  a  welcome 
to  ]Mr.  Capel  and  his  I'riend,  Father  Tom. 

"Heath  Cottage,  you  call  it.  Well,  noAV, 
may  I  never,  but  if  I  was  going  to  choosv!  a 
snug  little  spot  where  I  could  spend  the  re- 
mainder of  my  days,  I  woiihln't  want  a  sweet- 
er little  idace  than  that.  'Pon  my  sowl,  per- 
fectly ch-'rming."  And  the  good  jjriest  put 
up  his  hand  to  shade  his  eyes,  in  order  to  get  a, 
better  view.  "  Why,  Harry,  how  in  (iod's 
name  did  you  strike  ui)on  th.n.t  place?  Tho 
owner  is.  of  course,  a  Swaddler?  Do  I  know 
him?     What's  his  name?" 

"  It  is  all  what  it  appears  to  be,  Fatlier  Tom  ; 
it  is  better  even  inside,  and  you  will  wonder 
that  its  owner  is  not  a  Methodist  nor  a  Swad- 
dler, as  yon  call  them;  in  religi<ius  matters, 
he  is  something  like  my  falher;  but  hiH  wife, 
Mrs.  Manuors,  is  a  Melliodist,  and — '' 

"  Mrs.  what  V"  eagerly  interrupted  the  priest. 
"  Mrs.  Manners,  did  you  sav  ?" 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Mannors,  wife  of  Martin  Man 
nors,  or,  as  he  ought  to  be  cr1l>'(l,  the  /loiior- 
alilf  Martin  Mannors,  one  of  the  noblest  men 
living." 

'J'he  pri(  st  looked  at  liis  friend  in  blank 
amazement,  and  then  repeated  slowly,  "Tlie 
h.onorablo  Martin  Mannois,  of  Ham])Stead, 
C^min.'Uider  in  Chief  of  the  Secularists  in  and 
about  f jojhIou,  and  Uieat  Higli-I'ri.  st  of  the 
same  :"  And  then,  still  looking  at  Mr.  Capel, 
be  gavi'  a  long,  low  whistle,  so  ludicri>Uo  that 
Mr.  Ca]iel  actualb  laughed  alo\id. 

"()  faith!  yol'  r;ay  laugli,  via  }i*ntrhiil,  butt 
he's  got  you.  I've  heard  of  that  name  before, 
and  if  that's  the  siinu;  Martin  Mannors  that 
shines  in  the;  ]Si(ti(Hi((l  Utforiii('i\iiw\  in  tho 
Wcntiniimtt'r.  occasionally,  no  wonder  you'd  be 
troubled  with  doubts  and  problems.  Why, 
num,  fofiM'li-lib  l"i?'i"'»'  wrilia- against  church- 


EXETER    HALL. 


89 


mo  some 


hack,  if 
■la  to  ono 
ronnd  us  ; 
of  iiH!  at 
t'C'licok  by 
kiT  ;  lav(» 
1  1)11  a  bad 

lll(!0t." 

'oiii.     Wo 

odnesday. 
ut8,  soiue- 
try  H  on 
to  a  beef- 
I  for  tlio 
lis  to  our- 
uit  luid  a 

0  in  town 

day    will 

(lay  next 
rafy  home 
)oiiU('d  to 

windows, 
■den  ;  and 
•lul  homo- 
truck  tho 
r  a  boauti- 

as  the  jet 

1  welcome 
Foni. 
r'el],  now, 

choos>)  a 
id  the  re- 
it  a  Hweet- 
sow],  per- 
>nost  pnt 
■r  to  pi^t  a 
in  (lod's 
ce?  The 
)i)  I  know 

liorTom  ; 

II  wonder 
r  a  Swad- 
s  niattcrB, 
t  his  wife, 

tlic  priest. 

ptin  Man 
lie  honor- 
lilcst  Dion 

in  Ida/ik 
,iy,  '•  Tlie 
miiiptcud, 
>ts  in  )iii(l 
st  of  i1k< 
Ir.  Cape  I, 
r»ua  ttiaX 

rial,  butt 

ic  before, 
noi'H  that 

III  in  tho 

N'Oll'll    1)0 

^'  Why, 
A  (;lnircli- 


en  an'l  creeds,  he  can't  he  surpassed  in  Lon- 
don, nor  may  be,  in  all  Eiijjland.  He's  mur- 
der all  out,  when  lie  betjlns." 

It  wa.s  Mr.  Capel'sturn  now  to  he  surprised  ; 
not  that  ho  was  unac(iuainted  with  the  i)ecu- 
liar  opinions  of  his  host  on  the  subject  of  re- 
gion, but  he  liiul  never  heard  of  him  as  a 
leader  or  writer,  and  lu;  assured  the  priest 
that  a  more  unassuming  person  ho  had  never 
met. 

"  Tliat's  tlio  man,  Harry  ;  not  a  hit  of  pre- 
tension about  him — but  och,  munler !  lui's 
down  on  the  whole  of  us,  root  and  branch. 
I've  never  seen  lilni,  b;'*,  I  know  this  from  a 
particular  friend.  And  bad  luck  to  half  the 
clerical  thick  skulls,  instead  of  facinff  him 
like  men  and  refutinjr  his  fair  arfrumeiits, 
they  try  to  attack  his  character  ;  but,  by  all 
accounts,  that's  beyond  their  reach,  and  they 
can't  do  with  him  y(>t  as  they  have  done  to 
Paine  and  others.  Well  now,  'pon  my  sowl, 
priest  and  all  as  I  am,  I'd  like  to  meet  him. 
True  (renins  has  a  passport  to  every  heart, 
whatever  its  character." 

"Fatlier  Tom,  there  is  nothinff  I  would 
like  better  than  that  you  should  fjet  acquaint- 
ed with  him.  You  will  be  very  much  i)leased  ; 
drive  on  with  me,  and  if  he's  at  home,  you 
shall  have  that  gratification  in  less  than  five 
minutes." 

They  drove  up  to  the  garden-frate,  and  Mrs. 
Manner.-*,  being  as  usual  on  the  look-out  for 
Mr.  C'apel,  saw  him  outside,  accompanied  by 
anotlu.'r  i)ers()n  whoso  clerical  habit,  as  lie 
stopped  out  of  the  gig,  rather  puzzled  her. 
The  prie>Jt  wove  his  so'itnne,  over  which,  wIkmi 
driving,  he  drew  on  a  liglit  or  heavy  outside 
coat,  as  the  w<'ather  might  re(iuire.  Mrs. 
Manners  tin  i-efon;  did  not  venture  out,  but 
Robert  caiue  to  take  charge  of  the  horses  ; 
even  he  also  fi'lt  nonplussed  as  to  the  rcjal 
character  of  the  ])riest,  and  at  last  concluded 
that  he  must  be  some  great  man  among  the 
Methodists,  or  some  novel  importation  from 
"abroad"  to  delight  the  vision  of  Mrs.  Mai.- 
nors  and  otlier  pious  sisters  at  Exeter  Hall. 

"  'Pon  my  word,  Mr.  Manners,"  said  the 
priest,  after  tlie  introductions  were  over,  "  I'm 
very  hn|)])y,  very  hapi)y  indeed  to  meet  with 
on(!  BO  distinguished  as  yourseli',  and  I  am 
entirely  indebted  to  my  friend  Mr.  Capel  for 
this  unexf»ected  pleasure."  And  the  honest 
red  face  of  tJie  Itev.  Mr.  McXJlinii  was  beaming 
witji  smiles,  while  he  continued  to  look  witli 
admiration  upcm  tho  genial  countef-i'.nco  of 
^^i•.  Manners. 

"  Yon  flatter  me,  Mr.  Mcfilinn,  indeed  you 
do;  but  i'jiltery  from  a  clergyman,  to  one  iioi 
so  distinguished,  but  rather  so  noted  as  I  am, 
ought  to  he,  and  really  is  very  gratifying.  It 
is  a  rare  pleasure  for  me  to  be  honored  with  a 
visit  from  eitlier  priest  or  parson,  except  in 
the  case  (,f  our  friend  Capel  ;  and  I  shall 
treas'-in^  this  event  as  one  worthy  of  par.  Icular 
record." 

Mrs.  Manners  had  only  just  then  entered 
the  i-ooui  ;  and  her  husband,  upon  pre.-^enting 
Mr  Mc>'>liiin,  stated  tliat  he  was  a  Kninan 
(^"iitholic  ]ii'  -'t.  and  a  very  intimate  friend  of 
Mr.  Cajx't.  Had  some  wi.ked  imp  ((uickly 
tluMist  a  pin  into  her  arm,  she  could  not  hav(i 
held  back  more  suddenly,     fcsheluid  almost  as 


great  a  passion  for  reading  Fox's  Book  of 
Alaii>/r's  as  Hannah  had  for  reading  John 
Bunyan  ;  and  as  her  prejudice  against  I'opeiy 
was  very  strong,  she  really  fancied  that  there 
was  nothing  Um  perfidious  for  a  Romish  jiriest ; 
and  to  meet  one  thus  so  unexpectedly  in 
her  own  house  produced  the  violent  nervous 
etl'ect — actual  dread. 

Scarcely  one  present,  not  even  Mr.  Man- 
ners himself,  could  suppress  a  smile.  Mr. 
Samuel  Styles  had  to  cough  quickly  and 
loudly  several  times  to  ke(>p  from  bursting 
into  an  open  laugh  ;  and  the  farccal  expres- 
sion on  tlw!  jiriest's  face  just  meant  as  much 
as  if  he  had  said,  "  Don't  be  afraid  ;  indeed,  I 
won't  eat  you  at  all,  at  all,  ma'am  !" 

Ill  a  moment  or  two,  however,  she  hecame 
reassured,  and  having  bowed  politely,  forced 
herself  to  utter  sonu!  expressions  of  satisfac- 
tion ;  but  the  tantalizing  burden  remained  on 
her  mind,  how  Mr.  Capc^l,  a  jireaclier  of  tho 
(Jo.sjiel,  could  bt!  really  and  truly  the  intimate 
friend  of  a  Popish  i)riest.  After  a  glass  of 
wine,  and  the  interchange  of  a  few  common- 
place remarks,  as  it  was  getting  late,  the 
l)riest  reluctantly  said  he  should  have  to  leave ; 
but  he  received  a  warm  invitation  to  pay 
anotlier  visit,  and  he  took  his  departure,  men- 
tally flinging  his  best  blessing  on  the  head  and 
shoulders  of  Mr.  Mannors  and  upon  his  Avhole 
household.  As  lie  drove  oft'  alone  in  tho 
fast  waning  sunlight,  he  felt  delighted  at 
having  crossed  by  chance  such  a  flowery,  friv- 
grant  oasis  in  the  dreary  desert  of  his  clerical 
life. 

During  Mr.  McGlinn's  stay,  he  made  in- 
quiries about  some  (dd  friends  residing  in 
Philadelphia,  whom  Mr.  Styles  happened  to 
know,  and  made  some  flattering  observations 
o;i  the  prosjierity  of  the  great  republic  ;  and 
when  Samuel,  in  return,  thought  to  gratify  him 
with  an  account  of  the  immense  Catholio 
cathedral  in  course  of  erection  in  that  city  ;  of 
the  great  wealth  of  the  hierarchy  of  his 
C'hurch  in  the  United  States,  and  of  the  in- 
fluence which  the  Catholic  body  exercised 
throughout  tin;  country,  he  was  surprised  at 
the  indifference  manifested  by  Mr.  McOliun, 
and  set  him  down  as  an  exception  to  the 
general  rule  among  Catholic  clergymen. 

"  Father  McUlinn  is  an  oddity,"  said  Mr. 
Capel,  in  reply  to  arenuirkof  Mr. Styles;  "he 
is  looked  on  by  his  own  people  as  very  ec- 
centric and  independent,  but  he  is  a  great 
favorite,  and  a  more  charitable  man  does  not 
exist ;  his  kindness  in  this  respect  is  never 
regulated  by  creed,  color,  or  country." 

'■  That's  an  admirabhs  trait,"  said  Mr.  Man- 
nors. "  If  liis  face  be  the  representative  of  his 
heart,  his  generous  impulses  will  n(>ver  bo 
circumscribed  by  such  ideas.  !!(>  would  never 
make  an  inquisitor;  I  iiojie  we  shall  meethira 
soon  again.'' 

"  >.rr.-;.  .Miiniiiir.^  cc.ihl  attend  to  rtf)hon«(»hold 

all'airs  that  evening;   and  while  her  husl)and 

wa.-:    engaged    in    a   conversation    with    Mr. 

!  Styles,  she   drew    Mr.  Cajnd    toward  a   seat 

j  near   the    back  window  of    the  room,  where 

I  they  could  chat  more  (|uietly,  and  asked  him 

'  fli'ty   (|uestioiis  about    priests  and  Catholics, 

and  about  the  state  of  religion  on  the  circuit. 

She  told  him  all  the  local  news  concerning 


.:;1 


til.-' 
I'"  'I 


f;5 

ft:'  ■■ 


't^i 


m- 


W: 


EXETER   HALL. 


If- 


i 


'■  » 

.un"  " 


gj|W)ii 


-■>•■' 


i>    '       I 


I. 


clnss-moctinpB,  praypr-meetinfrs,  tea-mcotinprs, 
and  expected  revivals,  and  what  she  antici- 
pated at  Exeter  Hall ;  told  him  about  a  con- 
troversy which  had  been  coniinenced  on 
the  subject  of  baptism  ;  how  Mr.  Baker,  when 
he  returned  from  the  district  meetlnjr,  would 
overwhelm  the  immercionlHts  ;  said  sonit  - 
thiiijj  of  Dr.  Cumming's  now  exposition  of 
Daniel's  vision  of  the  ram  and  he-pfoat ;  and 
then  related  a  curious  dream  wliich  she  had 
liad  tliree  uifrhts  in  succession,  and  in  which 
he  and  Mr.  Mannors  were  the  jjrincipal  actors  ; 
and  liow  her  liopes  wi'ro  prrowinj''  8tron<rer 
and  stronger  that  lier  husband  should  soon  be 
clothed  in  his  right  mind,  and  ^v.t  rid  of  the 
dt>lusion  of  unbelief. 

Mr.  Capel  listened  to  these  desultory  reci- 
tals with  patience  ;  he  made  but  few  remarks, 
lie  knew  she  would  be  more  content  if  he 
sat  and  heard  all  she  had  to  say ;  and  while 
she  tried  to  make  him  feel  intenwtrd  with  her 
religious  burden  of  eccentricities,  his  mind 
was  preoccujned  with  other  matters.  H(! 
thought  of  Father  M(;Cilinn,  and  <  )f  the  shadows 
of  skef-ticism  which  were  already  closing 
around  him  ;  a  little  longer,  and  ho  too  might 
fall,  to  be  maligned  and  despised  by  those  w  iio 
nov.'  held  him  in  such  resi)ect.  Then  lie  re- 
flected upon  his  own  condifinn  ;  how  waver- 
ing, how  undecided.  Should  he  yet  be  sub- 
jected to  the  scorn  of  the  "  iaithful '"  ?  What 
would  Mr.  Baker  say  to  ]dm'l  how  should  he 
ever  again  hold  up  his  head  and  be  called  an 
apostate,  a  renegade,  a  wretch  ?  Then  there 
came  a  little  gleam  of  hope  ;  how  many  thou- 
sand of  the  learned  and  intellect  iu>l  in  all 
ages  had  given  their  assent  to  Christianity, 
never  doubting  the  Bible  or  its  teachings. 
He  must  try  and  resist  this  growing  incredu- 
lity, he  must  abandon  those  speculations,  and 
curb  the  towering  pride  of  his  reason.  How 
many  in  the  heyday  of  health  and  prosperity 
hii  ■  i)rofessed  to  n^ject  inspiration  but  to  sub- 
mi  i  and  bewail  their  error  in  a  dying  hcmr. 
He  knew  there  were  such  ;  but  then  again,  he 
knew  that  the  reputed  death-bed  scenes  of 
Paine,  Voltaire,  and  others,  which  had  mnny 
times  made  him  shudder  at  a  doubt,  were  uit 
gross  fabrications  oi"  unprincipled  men.  who, 
like  other  priests  in  all  ages,  believed  that  if 
truth  could  be  advanced  by  the  aid  of  a  lie,  it 
would  be  proper  to  do  so.  Then  again,  how 
uncertain  .was  this  death-bed  testimony  ;  how 
many  instances  were  there  at  such  times  of 
Protestant  converts  relapsing  to  Catholicism, 
and  of  men  in.evory  age  and  country  acce])t- 
ing,  in  the  feebleness  of  senility,  the  very 
errors  which  they  had  rejected  under  the 
influence  of  a  sound  mind. 

The  shadows  of  evening  fell  ttpon  the 
pombre  features  of  Mrs.  Mannors,  as  she  look- 
ed with  indifference  ui)on  the  sleeping  Howers 
beneath  her  window.  She  had  ceased  speak- 
ing, and  seemed  in  one  of  her  pious  reveries, 
and  sat,  listless  and  languid,  with  passionless 
face,  like  one  weary,  very  weary  of  herseif 
and  the  whole  world.  Just  then  her  busy, 
joyful  daughter  flitte<l  into  t)i(i  room  lik(!  a 
ray  of  light ;  she  was  follow(>d  by  her  brother  ; 
and  Mrs,  Mannors,  having  kissed  thi;  delicate 
cheidv  of  her  little  son,  led  the  way  to  the  tea- 
table  ia  the  a«xt  room. 


Half  an  hour  afterward,  and  before  Miss 
Mannors  had  time  to  commence  one  of  Jier 
favorite;  pieces,  Mr*<.  Mannors  remarked,  wlien 
they  had  reassembled  in  the  ])arlor: 

"Oh!  you  have  not  heard  all  that  Mr. 
Styles  has  to  say  about  America.  Yon  nmst 
hear  nil  he  has  to  tell  us  of  the  missionaries 
and  w,ld  Indians,  and  what  the  (i()si)el  has 
done  for  the  poor  black  men  in  his  native  land. 
He  has  traveled  for  tin;  Bible  Society,  and 
knows  every  thing  about  those  interesting 
matters."  And  she  led  Mr.  Capel  toward  Mr. 
Styli'.s,  and  looked  delighted  to  see  her  hus- 
band apparently  so  interested  in  private  con- 
versatiim  with  the  American  strangiT.  What 
a  positive  miracle  she  thought  it  was  now 
to  see  Mr.  Mannors  entertaining  a  minister 
of  the  Oospel,  and  the  agent  of  a  Bible  Soci- 
ety, Even  the  presence  of  a  Catholic  priest 
would  be  evidiMice,  lunvever  trifling,  that  her 
husband  had  yet  wime  regard  for  ndigion. 

"  Mr.  StyU's  nmst  know  a  good  deal ;  he 
could  even  tell  your  priest  friend,  Mr.  Capel, 
what  they  were  doing  to  advance  the  interests 
of  his  church — that  terrible  Popish  system. 
The  cathedral  they  are  putting  uj)  iu  Phila- 
de]])hia  must  be  a  wonderful  building.  What 
a  pity  to  waste  so  much  money  in  an  endeavor 
todehuh;  so  many  poor  ignorant  peoiibM" 

"  Guess  it  is,  ma'am,"  said  Samuel  Styles, 
with  great  sincerity ;  "just  see  what  good 
might  be  done  lor  the  ])oor  with  the  ])ile  of 
dollars  which  it  will  retjuire  to  conqdete  the 
building  Fancy  one  ndllion  thrown  away — 
yes,  worse  than  thrown  away,  for  such  a 
purpose.  But  Philadelphia,  like  Ne'"-York 
and  other  American  cities,  is  a  great  jdace  for 
churches,  and  ministers,  and  misery.  Some 
of  the  preachers  contend  so  hard  with  sinners, 
and,  said  he  parenthetically — so  often  with 
each  other — during  the  cold  dreary  winters, 
that  by  tlie  time  summc^r  comes  round  they 
are  used  u]),  and  then  the  ladies  go  about 
among  the  converted  and  collect  money 
enough  to  send  the  broken-down  ministers 
away  upon  an  Euro])ean  tour  to  r(>cover  their 
health  and  appetites.  Then,  when  tliey  get 
back  in  the  fall,  ready  for  another  brush  with 
the  enemy,  the  women  folks  go  amund  again, 
and  get  more  money  to  buy  what  they  call  a 
service  of  plate — that  is,  a  silver  tea-])ot  and  a 
lot  of  cuj)S  and  saucers — toencourng<'  them  to 
worlc  harder,  and  stmietimes  your  tip-to])  men 
get  a  gold  watch  or  two  thrown  in.  These 
wimien  are  charitable  to  the  ministers;  if  it 
wasn't  for  them,  I  guess  the  preachers  would 
once  iir  a  while  come  out  at  tlu;  small  end — 
guess  it's  a  kind  of  so  all  the  world  over. 
While  the  nu'u  squabble;  and  make  money, 
the  w(mien  take  care  of  the  church. "'•' 

"  You  see,"  said  Mrs.  Mannors  approvingly, 
"  that  the  Lord  often  chooses  tlie  weak  things 
of  the  world  to  confound  the  wise.  He,  in 
his  own  peculiar  way,  sejects  the  weaker  ves- 


*  A  rolisions  paper— the  Npw-York  Amha.vtadnj;  of 
AuK-  10,  1;-Im,  stilted  tli;it  the  Fifth  aveniio  1'rcsb.yterLin 
<'hur('h,  Xi'W-York.  hiid  presented  tlirir  Itito  pustor, 

I{ev.  N.  L.  K ,  with  a  purse  of  twenty-flve  tliouKiuul 

dollars,  and  also  one  year's  salary  of  six  llionsand  dol- 
lars; that  this  poor,  worn-out  pastor  liad  jiurehased  a 
farm  near  Ne\y  I5ruiis\vick,  N.  J.,  where  Lc  hitcndcd 
to  recruit  his  heaUh. 


EXETER    HALL. 


91 


bpIb,  tlip  Marys  and  the  Marthas,  to  effect 

hiH  ^n'ut  puriioscs." 

"Just  so,  nui'utn.  If  the  women  don't  rank 
equal  to  tlio  ministers  in  church  usefulniss,  I 
kind  <»'  ^uess  they  follow  immediately  next." 

"  So  they  do.  TIk;  Lord  has  made  his  Imnd- 
niMids  serviceable  ;  f  hope  he  will  continue  to 
do  so  unto  the  end." 

"  YcN,  ma'am ;  the  I  nitod  States  has  made 
great  strides  in  relipjious  matters  ;  but  here  I 
think  you  are  yet  a  leetle  ahead  of  us  just 
yet.  You  know  we've  ^^ot  no 'stat<-  church,' 
but,  Lord  bless  you,  we've  p'ot  pious  edifices 
at  cvt'ry  street-corner — splendid  ones  too  ;  tjio 
wlioli;  country  is  studded  with  them,  aln  'st  as 
thick  as  tonil)stf)nes  in  a  trraveyatd.  W< 
liave  now  about  fifty-four  thousand  clinrches 
in  the  United  States,  valui'd  at  one  1  .mdred 
and  seventy-two  millions  >.r  dollars,  jit!l'i> lino- 
accommodation  for  nin<!teeu  ''.lilliou  '"  i- 
frons.  Why,  in  New-York  itself,  there  tre 
over  three  hundred  cliurches  of  all  kinds, 
which  to  Pupjiort,  inclnc'infr  miuisti.'rs'  sala- 
ries, costs  rbout  one  million  dolhi  i  s  per  annum. 
jAIany  of  these  churches  are  richly  endowed, 
producini;,  accordinjr  to  a  careful  estimate?,  an 
annual  income  of  eifrhteen  millions  of  dulhirs 
— all,  too,  froe  from  any  kind  of  tax.  Trinity 
Church  alone  is  jiossessed  of  vast  wealth.* 
Then  we  have  a  spiritual  army  of  over  fifty 
thousand  well-paid  ministers,  fjoinjr  to  and  fro 
throu<rhout  the  land,  preaching  and  prayinjj  ; 
yet  poverty  and  crime,  cs)>ecially  in  cities  and 
amouff  churches,  is  on  the  in  crease ;  and  thoujih 
ministers  use  all  their  influence  to  have  mu- 
seun  is,  public  libraries,  and  ])lacQS  of  amuse- 
ment shut  up  on  the  Sabbath  day,  yet  not 
more  than  one  sixth  of  the  population  can  be 
induced  to  attend  a  place  of  worship.  They 
once  tried  in  Phihidelphia  to  jMit  a  stop  to 
travelin<r  on  Sunday,  by  putting  chains  across 
the  streets  in  front  ot  ihurch  doors,  and  even 
now  they  oljject  to  let  a  stre(jt-car  run  on  that 
(iay — the  poor  man  must  walk,  while  tin;  rich 
can  drive  with  impunity  ;  but  the  multitudes 
won't  be  forced,  and  the  churches  are  no  bet- 
ter filled  than  usual ;  still  they  go  on  build- 
ing more,  but  with  the  same  result  ;  and  un- 
believers boastfully  say  that  the  money  it 
costs  to  erect  stylish  sanctuaries  f  and  pay  an 


*  With  respect  to  the  vast  -wealth  of  Trinity  Church, 
New- York,  an  American  paper  gives  the  following 
Item  of  news : 

"  The  Claim  of  Trinity  Church,  in  New-York  City,  to 
about  SIXTY  MILLIONS  OF  DOLLARS  worth  of  real  estate 
Is    about  to  be  tested  in  the  Courts  of  that  State. 

is  one  of  the  counsel  for  the  heirs  of  Annckc 

Jans  who  claim  the  proptTty." 

After  readinc;  tills,  one  is  almost  forced  to  rub  his  eyes, 
to  see  if  he  be  not  deceived  ;  but  the  fact  is  too  notorious. 
Tlie  characteristic  j^reed  of  the  Cliristian  craft  has  en- 
abled even  that  one  church  to  monopolize  enough  to 
furnish  a  home  for  every  poor  family  in  the  great 
State  of  >Jew-York  !  O  shame  !  where  is  thy  blush  "c— 
Au//ic}'. 

tPAsmoNABLE  CnuBCHES.— A  writer  in  the  Atlanl'c 
Monthly,  for  January— says  :  '•  The  design  of  the  fasli- 
lonablc  chtu'ch-buiUler  nf  the  present  moment  is  to 
produce  a  richly-furnisliod,  quietly  adorned,  dimly-il- 
luminated ecclesiastical  parlor,  in  which  a  few  liun- 
dred  Indies  and  gentlemen,  attired  in  kindred  taste,  may 
sit  perfectly  at  their  ease,  and  see  no  object  not  in  har- 
mony witli  the  scene  around  tliem.  Every  thing  in 
niid  around  the  church  seems  to  proclaim  it  a  kiiid  of 
e:;c)iisive  ecclesiastical  club,  designed  for  the  accom- 
modation of  persons  of  ten  thousand  dollars  a  year  and 
upward." 


army  of  preachers  would  be  more  than  suill- 
I  cient  to  banish  every  trace  of  ])overty  from  the 
land;  that  the  money  which  is  annually 
siiuandered  ftir  religious  purposes  wctuld  i,o 
more  tliaa  ain]>lo  to  provide  homes  for  the 
homeless,  and  food  and  clothing  lur  all  in 
need  ;  thus  reducing motiv(!s  to  crime,  and  in- 
creasing a  general  coutontnient  and  mo- 
rality." * 

Mrs.  Mannors  felt  a  little  suri)rise  at  such 
aUmissions  from  Mr.  Styles,  anJ  seemed 
doubtful  as  to  the  propriety  of  this  lode  of 
upholding  rel.ginn  in  the?  ])resence  of  uer  hus- 
band. He  and  Mr.  C'ai)el  sat  quietly  by,  liis- 
tening  with  great  interetst  to  the  recital ;  and 
she  came  to  the  rescue  by  saying  that  she 
thought  sucl)  facts  were  the  best  proof  of  the 
depravit-.'  u\  he  human  heart  in  resisting  di- 
vine grace.  It  was  so  all  the  time.  Some  will 
iiever  do  more  than  ask,  "  What  shall  we  eat, 
what  shnll  we  drink,  or  wherewithal  shall  we 
bcclothidV"  As  long  astluir  iierishing  bo- 
dies are  cared  for,  they  feel  indiflercnt  about 
providing  for  their  immortal  souls. 

"  But,"  said  she,  making  a  diversion,  "  you 
can  tell  us  aln  it  the  Bibh;  Society.  'J'he 
American  Christians  get  credit  for  great  libe- 
ralitv  in  ^i  ing  to  circulate  the  glorious  Gos- 
pcd.'' 

"  So  they  ought,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Styles, 
pulling  out  a  little  niemorandum-book.  "  I 
guess  there  an't  a  race  of  jjcople  on  can  li  fiing 
their  money  away  faster  than  they  do.  Just 
get  steam  u])  pretty  well,  make  some  loud 
talk  about  '  the  Book,'  and  then  they  go  it 
like  a  streak.  I  rather  think  T  can  give  an  il- 
1  ustration  of  their  excitability — guess  it's  about 
the  same  in  piety  as  in  politics.  The  Ameri- 
can Bible  Society  has  done  a  good  deal  in  its 
jiarticular  way.  h\  about  fifty  years,"  said  he, 
consulting  his  memoranda,  "  they  have  col- 
lected over  ten  millions  of  dollars,  issued  over 
t  IPC  lit //-one  millions  of  Bibles,  and  have  ])ub- 
lished  over  seventi/  editions  of  '  The  Word ' 
in  fort/j-three  different  languages  ;  and  last 
year  again  the  society  raised  over  aix  hundred 
thousand  dollars  !" 

These  tremendous  fi.'^urcs  made  even  Mrs, 
Mannors  gasp,  and  she  brought  her  hands  to- 
gether in  a  ])erfect  ecstasy.  "  Oh  !  what  inde- 
fatigable men  you  must  have  in  your  native 
land,  what  wonderful  liberality,  in  such  anew 
country,  Avhat  a  conscientious  regard  for  the 
Bible  I  Your  nation  must  prosper.  The  Lord 
loveth  a  cheerful  giver." 

"That  regard  may  be  another  matter,  ma'am. 
I  have  assisted  in  the  distribution  of  some 
thousands  of  copies  of  the  Scriptflrcs  ;  every 
family  thought  it  but  right  to  have  a  Bible; 
but  then  it  Avas  mostly  laid  aside  if  it  was  a 
plain  aifair  ;  lint  if  it  had  good  binding  and  gilt 
edges,  it  would  be  put  among  trinkets,  where 
it  could  be  admired  with  the  rest.  This  kind 
of  Bible  purchase  used  to  remind  me  of  the 
great  nnmber  of  pious  folks  who  regularly 
attended  church  to  hear  fine  music  and  go  to 
sleep."  Then,  after  a  pause,  he  continued, 
"It  was  a  mystery  to  me  ;  the  money  kept  a 


*  From  the  ''''i^-Yor'kChrixtianAiirocnte,(\9,f^..)yvQ 
learn  that  the  »  "ntenary  contributions  of  tlic  JI.  E. 
Cliurch  now  foot  uo  to  nearly  eight  and  a  quarter  mil- 
lion  of  dollars,  with  four  conferences  yet  to  hear  from. 


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coming  in,  and  out  went  loads  upon  loads  of 
Bibles  ;  but  the  fact  is,  they're  not  read ;  and  j 
if  whitu  folks  won't  read  them,  neither  will 
the  black ;  but  then,  they  all  must  have  Bibles, 
just  like  the  papist  his  cross,  or  the  witch 
her  chaim,  and  so  it  goes  on  from  year  to 
year,  and  the  world  won't  be  converted.  It 
is  all  a  mystery— ten  millions  of  money  and 
twenty  one  millions  of  Bibles  !"* 

Having  made  these  statements,  Mr.  Styles 
assumed  a  reflective  attitude,  and  Mrs.  Man- 
nors  again  put  in  a  defense. 

"  It  iriay  be  a  mystery  to  us  for  a  while,  but 
a  glorious  result  will  follow — the  Lom  has 
promised  it— therefore  wo  need  not  doubt. 
The  missionary  rcjports  give  us  glowing  ac- 
counts of  what  the  Lord  is  doing  among  the 
heathen  ;  and  his  divinely  appointed  ministers 
of  our  land  and  of  yours  are  going  forth  like 
spiritual  Samsons,  overturning  idols  and  rout- 
ing the  enemy." 

"  Tliere  is  unfortunately  a  great  difference 
sometimes  between  these  missionary  reports. 
One  says,  that,  beside  the  actual  cost,  it  takes 
about  six  missionaries  to  convert  one  Hotten- 
tot ;  that  is,  it  takes  six  lives  ;  six  of  them  die 
off,  and  then  the  Hottentot  won't  stay  con- 
verted if  you  don't  feed  him  well.  Ji'ou  know 
the  heathen,  parishioners  often  eat  their 
minister!  The'  Missionary  Herald  won't 
publish  such  facts,  or  will  gloss  them  over, 
and  make  it  appear  as  if  things  were  going  on 
swimmingly ;  but  the  truth  leaks  out  by 
degrees;  and  loften  think  it  is  such  a  pity 
that  the  millions  we  spend — including  many 
a  widow's  mite — should  bo  flung  away  while 
we  have  so  many  poor,  and  ignorant,  and 
heathenish  at  home." 

"  No  matter,  these  things  may  be  dishearten- 
ing, but  the  command  is,  '  Go  forth,  and  pro- 
claim the  Gospel  to  every  creature !'  and  it 
must  bo  done.  What  is  the  wealth  of 
earth  compared  to  the  value  of  one  immor- 
tal soul !  Our  missionaries  have  con- 
tended with  the  jiowers  of  darkness  in  foreign 
lands ;  have  had  fierce  struggles,  but  glorious 
triumphs.  E\  en  one  solitary  rescue  from  the 
grasp  of  Satan  more  than  compensates  for  the 
millions  wo  spend.  The  cross  has  been  raised 
and  the  crescent  is  waning,  and  devils  tremble, 
■while  the  idols  of  the  heathtn  lie  scattered  in 
the  dust.  Come  tomorrow,  come  with  me 
and  see  a  proof  of  these  glorious  triumphs  at 
Exeter  Uall." 


CfiAPTEIl  xvin. 

It  was  tlie  fourth  of  May,  1804,  and  a  vast 
number  of  persons  thronged  the  streets  of  the 
metropolis.   The  many  houseless  and  homeless 

•Magnipicent  BiBLK.— Mr.  Mnckcnzic,  of  Glasgow, 
hns  printed  a  Bniall  mimlHT  of  whnt  he  caMs  his 
"  Iluiiflred  Guinea  Edition  "  of  tlie  Holy  PtTipturra— 
an  edition  with  which  his  name  will  always  be  ussocl- 
atcd.  It  Is  the  most  sumptuous  and  bent  printed 
Bible  ever  produced.  The  size  Is  atlas  folio  :  the  type 
used  is  a  beautiful,  sharp-cut  Krcat-primer,  set  up  In 
two  columns,  with  two  narrow  central  columns  of 
reference ;  a  lliiok  red  border  line  is  printed  out!<ldt. 
the  text ;  tiio  paper  made  use  of  is  very  tlilck,  nmdo 
eBpeciully  by  Dickenson,  costinK,  we  believe,  im  much 
as  fourtt  en  nenco  a  pound.  Twelve  copies  only  have 
been  printed,  and  tlie  probability  is,  that  whenever  a 
cony  luriiB  up  for  salo  it  will  fetch  some  fubulouB 
price.— i:'>i£r/i«A  paptr. 


wanderers  that  lurked  here  and  there,  or  sat 
listlessly  in  some  recess,  looked  with  moody 
indifference  upon  the  gay  crowd  that  flitted 
by,  though  often  shadowed  by  the  diseased  and 
limping  poverty  that  hobbled  by  its  side.  Eng- 
lish  lords  and  foreign  barons  passed  and  re- 
passed, and  now  the  gay  retinue  of  a  wealthy 
j)i:er  moved  proudly  by ;  while,  not  far  distant, 
the  fluttering  rags  of  a  British  beggar  could 
be  seen,  as  he  watched  with  scowling  aspect 
the  approach  of  a  policeman  who  woulu  i)re- 
vent  him  asking  the  charity  which  ho  so  much 
needed,  or  warn  him  off'  as  an  unclean  thing, 
unfit  to  be  seen.  And  then,  at  intervals,  could 
be  observeil  drifting  wrecks  of  frail  and  fam. 
ishing  womanhood,  moving  slowly  but  surely 
down,  down,  to  that  deep,  dark  gulf  of  infamy, 
out  of  which  not  one  in  a  hundred  is  ever 
rescued. 

Neither  fog  nor  cloud  interposed  this  day  to 
frown  upon  the  flaunting  gayety  of  heartless 
wealth,  or  shut  out  the  sad  condition  of  those 
harassed  to  temptation  and  crime  by  the 
heavy  load  of  poverty  and  affliction  which 
flung  out  such  dreary  shadows  of  de8i)air  upon 
the  future.  The  sun  shone  down  brightly  en 
all  alike,  as  if  in  reproof  to  the  imposed  dis- 
tinctions which  religion  and  exclusiveness 
have  ever  advocated,  and  which  have  robbed 
so  many  of  nature's  free  gifts,  spreading  such 
misery  and  desolation  over  the  whole  earth. 

Onward  went  the  cnAvd ;  and  those  who,  from 
long  observation,  could  readily  distinguish 
between  the  every  day  appearance  of  the 
stream  of  life  which  pours  through  a  London 
thorouglifare  and  one  of  an  unui^'ual  kind 
could  this  day  notice  the  foreign  faces  and 
quaint  and  provincial  costumes  which  moved 
toward  Waterloo  bridge.  The  throng  hero 
was  very  great,  ond  it  required  all  the  exertion 
of  a  host  of  policemen  to  keep  the  thorouglifare 
from  being  completely  blocked  up.  Pedestri- 
ans and  equestrians,  soldiers  and  civilians, 
cabs,  corijhes,  and  omnibuses  followed  each 
othtr  in  quick  succession  ;  and  a  great  number 
of  cler«:iyi.nen,afew  statesmen  and  philanthro- 
pists, made  the  medley  almost  complete. 

Farther  toward  the  Strand  the  current  of 
people  seemed  to  flow,  but  a  crowd  was  kept 
from  forming  in  that  place  by  the  tens  and 
dozens  which  went  off  together  in  the  direC/- 
tion  of  Exeter  Hall.  Equipage  after  equi- 
page was  ranged  around  the  building,  in  wait- 
ing for  the  great  personages  they  had  con- 
veyed thither.  Surely  some  extraordinary 
busin^ss  must  be  on  hand ;  it  might  be  sup- 
posed that  a  convocation  of  the  great,  the  M'ise, 
the  humane,  and  charitably  disposed  of  the 
world  was  about  to  take  ))iace  to  concert  one 
grand  measure  to  relieve  the  necessities  of 
every  human  being,  and  that  an  experimen- 
tal attempt  was  to  be  made  among  the  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  of  poverty-stricken 
wretches  struggling  out  a  miserable  exist- 
ence in  that  great  city  of  wealth  and  priva- 
tion, and  afterward  to  bo  extended  to  the 
children  of  misery  throughout  the  kingdom. 
Or  it  might  be  an  immense  gathering  of  the 
kind  and  merciful,  to  abolish,  first  of  all,  those 
])auper  prisojis  and  bastiles  of  pf)verty  whicli 
ought  to  bring  a  blush  of  shame  to  the  cheeks 
of  British  legislators — prisons  and  bustilt.'s,  in 
which  human   beings  ere  degnid«Kl  for  th« 


wmK 


EXETER    HALL. 


98 


hero,  or  sat 
with  moody 

that  ilitted 
liBeaFcd  and 
iside.  Enfr- 
Bed  and  re- 
f  a  wealthy 

far  distant, 
iggar  could 
ling  aspect 

would  i)re- 
he  so  much 
ilean  thinp:, 
rvals,  could 
lil  and  fam. 
r  but  surely 
f  of  infamy, 
Ired  is  ever 

1  this  day  to 
jf  heartless 
on  of  those 
ne  by  the 
tion  which 
espair  upon 
brightly  en 
mposed  dis- 
iclusiveness 
ave  robbed 
ading  such 
ole  earth, 
je  who,  from 
distinguish 
nee  of  the 
fh  a  London 
ui^'iial  kind 
faces  and 
lich  moved 
irong  here 
he  exertion 
lorouglifare 

Pedeptri- 

civilians, 
owed  each 
eat  number 
l)hilanthr6- 
plete. 
current  of 
d  was  kept 
e  tens  and 

the  direo- 
after  equi- 
ng,  in  wait- 
y  had  con- 
traordinary 
rht  bo  Bup- 
it,  the  wise, 
)S(h1  of  the 
;(«icert  one 
cessities  of 
exju'rimen- 
ig  the  hun- 
rtystrickcn 
able  exiet- 
and  priva- 
iled  to  the 

kingdom, 
ring  of  the 
)f  all,  tlioso 
erty  which 
the  cheeks 
bastih^M,  in 
ittd  for  tht) 


rrime  of  penury — where  the  child  knows  no 
parent,  and  wliero  the  venerable  couple  who 
iiRve  walked  together  nearly  to  the  v<!ry  foot 
of  the  hill  of  life  are  here  separated  forever, 
and  imprisoned  because  of  their  mendicancy  !* 

Were  these  people  about  to  meet  to  estab- 
lish some  great  system  of  free  education,  or 
to  improve  the  condition  of  the  overwi  ought 
working  classes?  What  benevolent  object 
could  there  be  in  view  which,  could  thus  in- 
duce the  reputed  wise  of  the  earth  to  hurry 
together  from  its  four  corners  to  meet  in  a 
distant  city?  Aias!  simply  but  a  matter 
which  fancifully  relates  to  the  soul  alone,  and 
to  another  state  of  existence,  and  to  the  te- 
dious and  exorbitantly  expensive  dissemina- 
tion of  a  so-called  revelation  from  the  of- 
fended deity  of  Christendom ! 

The  stranger  or  citizen  of  London  on  that 
fine  May  morning  could  not  but  observe  the 
numerous  placards  and  large  ^wsters  put  up 
in  conspicuous  places,  side  by  side  with  bills 
about  Drury  Lane,  Covent  Garden,  and  other 
noted  places  of  amusement ;  and,  as  he  went 
along,  he  would  see,  wandering  about  the  gay 
streets,  brutalized  and  sottish  men,  earning 
sixpence  or  a  shilling  by  carrying  the  same 
placard  on  their  shoulders,  and  then,  as  with 
staggering  step,  one  thrust  himself  in  the 
way,  the  pedestrians  could  read — 
" EXETER  HALL  I 

GREAT    MEETING     OF    THE     BUITISH     AND 
FOKEIGN  BIUIiE  SOCIETY, 
THIS  DAY  !" 

Those  who  chose  to  follow  the  stream  of 
life  toward  the  Ilall  could  notice  the  great 
number  of  loungers  and  idlers  in  front  of  its  en- 
trance ;  that  is,  if  men  who  are  willing  to  labor 
but  can  not  find  employment  may  be  called 
such,  and  coarse  jokes  and  rough  comments, 
mad0  by  the  pauper  crowd,  could  be  heard  as 
a  stately  carriagtj  dnn-e  up,  or  upon  the  ai>pear- 
ance  of  some  clerical  celebrity,  against  whom 
these  comments  were  more  particularly  di- 
rected. 

"  That's  a  rum  cove,  Bill ;  that  ere  fellow's  a 
Sandwicher,  I'll  bet." 

"  No,  he  beant,  Tom  ;  if  it's  that  lantern  jaw 
with  the  gold  swag,  just  going  in,  it's  Parson 
Uockett,  with  his  five  hundred  a  y(mr.  Dare 
say  he's  taken  in  more  sandwiches  in  a  w(*i!k 
than  we  ever  did  in  our  blasted  lives,  and  yet 
he's  slim  about  the  belt." 

"  Here's  a  swell,  boys !  my  oyos,  what  a  well- 
l)aid  Christian  !  tijore's  a  corporation  for  you !" 

"  Who's  he.  Jack  V" 

"  Dunno ;  I'll  lay  it's  a  bishop ;  'tis  too.  Fine 
c'oachthatl  dare  sav  he's  got  the  (/jVa-j.  I'ddanm 
sight  rather  have  his  purse  tlian  his  ^jrayers. 
Ay,  that's  Bishop  of  Winchester ;  he's  a  big 
'un,  and  will  stick  to  the  Bible  as  long  as  it 
brings  him  from  ten  to  twenty  thousand  a  year, 
tlio  blnstiMl  state  cormorant !" 

"  See,  Bill,  here's  another  on  'era.  Oood 
heavens!  what  I'd  give  to  bo  a  bishop  ;  another 
fine  coach,  lots  o'  flunkies  and  plenty  of  brass. 
That's  Hipon.  My  Lord  Bishop  of  Uipon,  ha, 
ha  I  Damn  me,  out  I  irotild  like  to  bo  him  ;  some 
tliousands  a   year,  plenty  to  cat,  nothing  to 

•  SooNoto  O. 


do,  plcntv  of  beer,  lots  o'  fun.  Good  God, 
what  a  life !" 

*' Jack,  this  next  fellow  an't  a  bishop;  the 
mope  is  afoot,  and  looks  as  if  he  had  j  ust  lost 
his  mother." 

"  That's  one  of  them  'ere  preachers,  a  Me- 
thouy,  reg'ler blue-face.  Jest  hear  him  once, 
when  he's  set  a'going.  All  hell,  hell !  He 
knows  more  about  it  tlian  the  best  on  'em." 

"  Who's  this  grinning  upe,  Tom  ?  This  cove 
with  the  uinbreller?" 

"  And  the  big  teeth  ?  don't  yo,t  know.  Bill  ?" 

"  No,  but  blast  it,  I  think  I  ought  I  Blow  me, 
but  it's  Spurgeon !  so  ii  is.  He's  got  ja^r- 
breakers.  and  uses  them  too.  He'll  make  'em 
finger  the  dibs  to-day,  and  send  another  batch 
of  Bibles  to  the  forriners." 

"  Say,  Bill,  didn't  y6u  get  a  Bible  once  from 
one  of  them  hired  chaps?  One  of  them — 
what  do  you  call  'ems?  What  did  you  do 
with  the  Bible,  Bill  ?" 

"  Sold  it  for  beer  and  bacca — same  as  yon 
and  Tom  Brown  did." 

•'  But  you  never  read  vours,  you  blasted 
heathen !" 

"  Didn't,  'cause  I  couldn't — wouldn't  if  I 
could.' 

"  O  Bill  I  Then  you  never  knew  any  thing 
about  the  ass  that  talked  for  a  lull  half-hour 
to  Jonah  before  the  cock  crew  at  him." 

"  Wouldn't  bleevo  it  if  I  did ;  that's  all 
gammon — bishop's  gamm nn." 

"  Them  chaps  going  in  bleevcs  it,  Bill — e}i? 
Pays  well." 

"  So  they  says,  but  I  knows  better  than 
that — they  may  though,  cause  they're  paid — 
'tis  their  trade,  and  they'd  blecve  any  sich 
rubbish  for  money.'' 

"Stand  aside,  here's  another  one  of  the 
spouters,  swellish  like.  Them's  a  nice  pair  of 
grvys.  I  d(m't  mean  the  reverend  old  buck, 
nor  the  lady,  nor  of  course  the  young  uns  in 
front,  but  tlie  horses — slap  ujis,  an't  they? 
'Tis  a'most  as  good  as  a  bishop's.  Lord,  how 
this  praying  business  docs  iir^'!  '  him, 
how  he  blinks,  and  bows — tJuit »  yo.ir  style, 
old  boy." 

"  Jack,  if  that  fellow  has  the  face  of  a  con- 
verted saint,  tliere's  hope  for  you  and  Bill." 

"What  the  devil  do  you  know  about  it? 
You  wouldn't  compare  me  to  that  cliap,  would 
you?  Who  is  lu;?  Just  see  him  hand  the 
ladies.     O  Lord!"  <  » 

•Who  is  he,  Bill?" 

"  Why,  that's  Buster,  Dr.  Buster,  as  they  calls 
him— one  of  the  most  certain,  inuiiortal  saints 
in  town,  great  among  the  female  angels  I" 

"  Buster — Buster,  I've  heerd  o'  him  some 
place  afore  ;  he's  big  and  ugly  enough  to  bust 
into  lu^ll  without  a  i)a88pi)rt." 

"  Well,  if  he's  a  saint,  there's  h()])0  for  mo !" 

On  this  i)articular  day,  Exciter  Ilall  was 
filled  to  its  utmost  capacity  ;  one  would  think 
that  the  elite  of  the  wealth  and  fuKhian  of 
Britain  had  deputed  its  most  styllwh  to  attend, 
in  order  to  convince  the  distinguished  foreign- 
ers of  tho  earnestness  and  orthodoxy  of  the 
WM'althy  and  highborn  of  the  United  King- 
dom. Eminently  credulous  men.  full  of  faith, 
fnmi  distant  lands,  could  be  si'en  in  the  brilliant 
assemblage,  and  there  were  great  anticipo* 
tions  that,    this  day  would  furnish  anotuer 


H 


EXETER   HALL. 


15!;:^  j^«i»- 


'.l: 


t» 


;r 

'V 

... 

k 

h^ 


triumplmnt  proof  of  British  benevolence,  and 
tlmt  another  dicck  Avould  be  given  to  tlie  in- 
creasing sliepticiBin  and  presumptuous  infi- 
delity of  the  ago. 

W'liilc  tlie  upacioiis  platform  was  crowded 
•with  many  of  tlie  most  famous  defenders  and  ex- 
pounders of  the  Bible  in  Great  Britain,  Ame- 
rica, France,  Germany,  and  other  countries,  it 
wns  remarkable  that  the  higher  dignitaries  of 
the  Established  C'hurch  were  not  to  bo  seen 
amongst  them.  Where  were  the  spiritual 
princes  of  York  and  Canterbury  ?  Where  was 
the  regal  fisherman  of  Ijambeth  Palace  t  It 
might  be,  however,  that  it  would  not  comport 
witli  the  dignity  of  an  archbishop  thus  to  ex- 
pose himself  to  vulgar  gaze,  along  with  the 
numbers  of  once  wild  chiel's  and  cannibals  that 
were  to  be  exhibited  on  that  and  the  following 
day,  as  triumphs  of  the  Gospel.  But  when  the 
Bibhi  has  done  so  much  to  inculcate  a  regard 
for  the  "  powers  that  be,"  and  has  so  particu- 
larly secured  for  the  English  hierarchy  such 
an  ovt;rflowing  of  worldly  ease  and  comfort, 
it  might  be  only  within  bounds  to  expect  that, 
if  for  no  other  reason,  even  an  assumed  ^ene- 
ration  for  that  holy  book  shoulu  induce  "  His 
Grace"  of  Canterbury  to  appear  there  among 
other  humble  Christians,  and  personally  advo- 
cate its  circulation. 

However,  the  embodiment  of  piety  and  re- 
ligions talent  which  was  this  day  to  add  such 
addiiional  lustre  to  "Gospel  triumphs"  seem- 
ed to  sit  together  like  lambs  of  the  same  flock, 
dutiful  children  of  the  same  father — a  specta- 
cle of  love  and  humility,  on  which  men  and 
ang(!l8  might  gaze  forever  with  delight. 
What  an  exhibition  !  A  spiritual  fraternity, 
docile  and  submissive,  striving  not  for  prece- 
dence, nor  for  the  unholy  suiicriority  of  creeds, 
but  all  met  again  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  to 
assist  in  the  propagation  of  the  "  glorious  Gos- 
pel." Men  of  every  nation  and  clime  here 
met  in  fraternal  embrace  on. this  spacious 
platform,  as  living  ])roof8  of  Bible  r '.<,):enera- 
tion;  and  tho  skeptic  or  infidel  might  well 
look  confused  when  he  saw  a  titled  and 
mitred  bishop  sit  as  contentedly  side  by  side 
with  a  converted  Caff  re  oi  Ojibbeway  chief, 
as  tho  Rev.  Dr.  Buster  ihen  and  there  sat 
between  his  reverend  friends,  James  Baker 
and  Jonah  lla'.l. 

As  soon  as  the  noble  and  distinguished  pre- 
sident of  the  sociity,  the  Right  Honorable  the 
Earl  ()f  Shaftesbury  K.G.,took  his  seat  on  the 
platt'orm,  there  was  a  murmur  of  applause 
from  the  vast  assembly,  and  the  great  organ 
swelled  lorth  its  strains  of  solemn  but  exqui- 
siic  music  ;  and,  now,  as  wave  after  wave  of 
harmony  swept  through  the  great  hall,  it  had 
its  usual  i)rei)aiatc)ry  influence  upon  tho  feel- 
ings of  all  ju'esent. 

A  clergyman  then  opened  the  proceedings 
with  ])niyer,  and  read  the  forty-lirth  Psalm. 
An  abstract  of  the  society's  proceedings  for 
the  year  was  then  read,  showing  that  tho  re- 
ceipts for  the  year,  applicable  to  tho  general 
purposes  of  the  socit!ty,  were  nearly  itUO.OOO 
sterling,  being  marly  £0000  over  tho  i)receu- 
ing  year,  ai\(l  greatly  exceeding  tho  annual 
collections  of  any  iormer  period.  The  amount 
received  for  tlu!  sale  of  Bibles  and  Testamontb 
was  £«0,000,  while  the  total  receipts  from  tho 


ordinary  sources  of  income  amounted  to  about 
£1GJ>,000,  being  more  than  in  any  pi-ecedinj{ 
year;  and  during  tho  year  the  society  had  is 
sued  from  its  dejiots  at  home  about  1,000,000 
copies  of  the  Scriptures,  and  from  the  foreign 
depots  645,000  copies. 

The  grand  total  of  copies  issued  by  the  so- 
ciety up  to  its  siitieth  anniversary  amounted 
to  over  forty-five  and  a  half  millioiia  of  co])iei) 
of  the  word  of  God.  at  an  expense  of  several 
millions  sterling  !  Tl:  e  total  expenditure  for 
the  year  was  over  £151 ,000,  leaving  the  society 
still  under  engagements  to  the  extent  of  about 
£110,000.* 

It  is  quite  probable  that  tho  issues  of  the 
Bri  ish  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  now  extend 
to  over  fifty  millions  of  cojiies  of  the  so-called 
"word  of  God."  Actually  more  than  one 
Bible  for  every  minute  of  time  of  the  last  sixty 
years,  or  sinci?  the  establishment  of  the  society. 
Who  can  fairly  prove  that  the  world  is  any  bet- 
ter for  all  this  expenditure  ? — millicns  worse 
than  wasted  in  an  insane  idea  to  elevat  e  human- 
ity by  the  degradation  of  reason  ?  Half  of 
what  it  hus  cos'  '  )  circulate  Bibles  and  teach 
religion  within  the  last  fifty  years,  ])roper]y 
disbursed  for  humane  or  educational  purposes, 
would  have  almost  banished  every  trace  of 
poverty,  and  have  given  a  more  correct  idea  of 
"  what  is  truth  "  by  leading  men  to  see  tho 
vicious  principle  of  the  false  ideas,  false 
honor,  false  patriotism,  and  spurious  benevo. 
lence  whiuh  still  govern  and  actuate  priestj 
and  rulers  of  all  kinds  thioughout  the  world. 
Talk  of  a  religion  of  -pence,  while  it  seems  that 
xear  is  the  great  idea  of  the  human  race  at  tho 
present  day !  Nations  which  claim  to  be  emi- 
nently Christian  are  generally  first  in  the  field 
of  contest,  and  are  continually  making  pre- 
parations for  a  further  reliance' on  providence 
by  increasing  their  store  of  bullets,  bayonets, 
and  bomb-shells.  It  has  been  asserted,  as  a 
melancholy  fact,  that  during  the  sixty-eight 
years  of  this  century,  more  human  lives  haVe 
been  sacrificed  to  the  Moloch  of  »var  thax^  in 
any  five  centuries  of  history.  Tho  present 
century  may  be  said  to  have  opened  with  the 
Frer.ch  Revolution,  while  the  year  (18G5)  closed 
the  stupendous  war  of  the  rebellion  among 
Christian  Americans  ;  and  now,  Christian  Eu- 
rope is  again  ablaze  with  tho  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance of  war,  there  being  already  over 
three  millions  of  Christian  men  under~arms, 
awaiting  a  signal  from  the  great  destroyer  to 
commeuco  their  pastime  of  havoc;  ecclesias- 
tical 1iist()ry,.moro  than  any  other,  is  a  dread- 
ful record  of  atrocity.  Tho  sentiment  of  the 
age  is  for  war;  impress  tho  gilded  and  glitter- 
ing word  "patriotism"  upon  the  human  heart, 
and  it  almost  blots  out  every  trace  of  the  im- 
l)rint  of  humanity  left  thero  by  tho  bettor 
feelings  of  our  nature.  There  is  no  confidence 
betvveen  (christian  nations.  Christian  diplo- 
macy is  but  a  system  of  polished  duplicity — 
suspicion  lurks  in  every  cabinet — and,  as  proof, 
the  armed  peace  of  Christian  Europe  annually 
costs  the  enormous  sum  of  over  £{100,000,000 
sterling.  Talk  of  wur,  and  tho  school-boy, 
with  "  paper  cap*  and  wooden  sword,  plays  tho 


♦  See  Ilrltleb  and  Foreign  Bible  Society's  report  for 
June,  WA. 


EXETER   HALL. 


98 


ntcd  to  about 
iiy  pivcedinji 
»ciety  had  i& 
jut  1,000,000 
11  the  foreign 

d  by  the  go- 
ry amounted 
ma  of  coi)ie8 
ISO  of  aecirul 
lenditure  for 
g  the  society 
ent  of  about 

ipsues  of  the 

■  now  extend 

the  po-called 

•0  than  one 

the  last  sixty 

['the  society. 

•Id  is  any  bet- 

illicns  worse 

!vat  e  human- 

i  ?    Half  of 

?s  and  tcacli 

irs,  i)roper]y 

»al  purposes, 

ery  trace  of 

irrect  idea  of 

ft  to  see  the 

ideas,   false 

ious  benevo. 

tuate  ])rie8tj 

t  the  world. 

it  Bcems  that 

n  race  at  the 

11  to  be  enii- 

t  in  the  field 

nakinjr  pre- 

i  providence 

s,  bayonets, 

iserted,  as  a 

sixty-eij>lit 

n  lives  haVo 

kvar  thai^  in 

lio  present 

ed  witli  the 

1805) closed 

ion  among 

iristinn  Eu- 

inp  and  cir- 

ready  over 

inder-armn, 

destroyer  to 

;  ecclesias- 

is  a  dread- 

tnent  of  the 

and  glitter- 

iinan  heart, 

3  of  the  im- 

tho   bettor 

1  confidence 

t^tian  diplo- 

duplicity — 

lid,  as  proof, 

10  annually 

aoo.ooo.ooo 

school-boy, 
1,  plays  tht) 

ty'8  report  for 


preneral ;"  while  the  bisJiop  lays  down  his 
Bible,  and  marches  from  the  pulpit  to  com- 
mand a  brigade.*  In  every  gallery  of  art,  the 
busts  of  our  "national  her.:3"  obtain  the 
raoft  conspicuous  place ;  and  our  numerous 
costly  monuments  are  nearly  all  for  tlio  pur- 
pose of  enthroning  in  equestrian  marble  some 
military  demigod, and  elevating  hiiu  nearer 
to  heaven.  Shakespeare  may  remain  jxjrched 
on  a  stool,  while  the  column  erected  to  a  York 
or  a  Nelson  can  almost  touch  the  cross  of  St. 
Paul's. 

After  the  report  was  read,  the  president. 
Lord  Shaftesbury,  addressing  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  said,  "  That  nothing  had  occurred 
during  the  year  to  render  it  necessary  for  him 
to  interpose  between  them  and  the  business 
of  the  meeting.  He  had  only  to  thank  God 
that  tliis  unhistorical,  uninspired,  unfortunate 
and  unnecessary  book  had  been  demanded 
with  redoubled  avidity.  They  had  upon  that 
platform  proof  of  what  he  said.  Among 
otliers,  they  had  ambassadors  from  the  dis- 
tant island  of  Madagascar  coming  to  record 
tlie  triumph  of  God's  holy  word  in  their  own 
land,  ready  and  rejoicing  to  carry  back  to  their 
country  a  narrative  of  the  triumphs,which  they 
had  witnessed  in  this.  But  he  would  not,  by 
saying  any  more,  interrupt  a  far  better  speech 
from  a  far  better  man,  and  he  therefore  called 
upon  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester  to  move 
the  first  resolution.f 

The  n(jblo  chairman,  whose  address,  if  it 
possessed  no  other  merit,  had  that  of  brevity. 
Ijike  mo^  other  Englishmen,  he  could  not 
refrain  fwra  alluding  to  the  "triumphs"  of 
his  native  land.  But  as  those  to  which  he 
more  particularly  referred  were  "  of  the  Gos- 
pel," it  n\ight  bo  well  to  notice  a  few  of  the 
complaints  of  missionaries  respecting  their 
want,  of  success  in  foreign  lands,  and  to  show 
that  tho  "  triumphs  of  God's  holy  word"  in 
distant  climes  are  not  altogether  such  as  to 
justify  so  many  confident  assertions  from  the 
mighty  spirits  of  Exeter  Hall. 

As  to  the  achievements  of  missionary  enter- 
prise, what  forlorn  accounts  are  regulnrly  re- 
ceived, and  how  often  bus  the  terrible  fact 
been  recorded  of  Christianized  cannibals  de- 
vouring their  minister !  In  India,  and  China, 
and  among  distant  islands,  missionary  zeal 
has  sacrificed  ?nany  votaries ;  and  the  accumu- 
latL'd  off'erings — often  made  up  of  widows' 
mites  and  gleanings  from  the  poor — have  been 
lavislu'd  without  any  conimensuruto  results. 
Yet  the  delusion  is  s'till  kept  up  in  England 
and  America;  and  though  pious  periodicals 
make  urgent  appeals  for  the  "  poor  heathen," 
and  continue  to  gloss  over  actual  failures,  yet 
some  of  these  papers  are  forced  to  admit  that 
there  are,  occasionally,  very  depressing  re- 
jMirts. 

The  Minsinnnry  Ifcrnld,  of  tho  American 
Board  f(»r  Foreign  Missions,  for  June,  180^, 
dolefully  gives  tho  following  particulars : 

♦Tntho  Into  rebellion  In  tho  United  States,  Ulsliop 
Poll<,  n  Houttiern  chm-chmnn,  wns  n  Lientenant-(Joiio- 
ral  in  tho  confedonitctirniy.  iind  was  killed  in  action 
on  Pino  Monntnln  in  Ueoifjla,  Jnno  Hlh,  1801. 

tThis  i,s  a  Blight  nbridy;ment  of  Lord  Shiiftcsbury's 
nddrotis  ut  tho  nieetin-;  Of  tiio  Hrifish  and  Fori^it;ii 
Biblo  Society,  in  Exutcr  Hall,  London,  on  May  4, 1804. 
— vluMor. 


"  Tliat  onlv  seven  per  cent  of  the  populalioa 
of  Ceylon  (3,000,000)  should  profess  Chrig- 
tianity,  and  that  only  tmo  per  cent  should  be  Re- 
formed or  Protestant  Christians,  will  be  inelaQ- 
choly  facts,  pregnant  with  solemn  reflecticna 
to  many  of  our  readers.  But  so  it  is,  after  all 
that  has  been  done  to  preach  the  Gospel  and 
distribute  the  Bible.  The  darkness  of  the  pic- 
ture in  our  case  is  only  relieveil  when  the  con- 
trast presented  by  continental  India  is  regard- 
ed. In  Ceylon,  it  may  be  said  that  something 
has  been  done^  not  merely  to  sap  the  outworks 
of  heathenism,  but  to  build  up  the  edifice 
of  Christianity.  If  ours  is  the  day  of  small 
things,  what  are  wo  to  say  to  India  (Britisli  and 
independent)  with  her  two  hundred  millions 
against  our  two,  and  her  less  than  half  a  million 
of  Christians,  say  one  fourth  of  one  per  cent 
against  our  seven  per  cent !  When  wo  say 
half  a  million,  we  allow  for  120,000  JiurO' 
pean  Christians,  including  tho  civil  service, 
army,  navy,  merchants,  planttirs,  etc.:  and  we 
give  the  most  liberal  margin  for  Komanists 
papal  and  Portuguese,  Syrian,  Armenian,  etc. 
Subjected  merely  to  the  numerical  test,  Chris- 
tianity may  be  said  to  have  made  but  smail 
progress  either  in  India  or  Ceylon." 

What  an  overwhelming  waste  of  money 
these  missions  have  involved  ;  and  according 
to  the  Herald,  what "  melancholy  facts"  are  the 
return — two  per  cent  in  Ceylon,  and  less  than 
one  fourth  of  one  per  cent  in  India !  In  a 
subsequent  issue  of  the  same  journal,  giving 
an  account  of  tho  Mahratta  Mission,  in  which 
during  the  then  last  fourteen  years  over 
$20,000  had  been  expended  by  one  society 
alono  in  eflTorts  at  conversion,  it  says,  "  Tho 
account  which  Mr.  Munger  (the  missionary) 
gives  of  the  present  state  and  prospects  of 
missionary  efforts  in  the  Mahratta  Mission  m 
not  encouraging.  Less  than  a  dozen  persons 
constitute  his  stated  Sabbath  audience,  and 
these  are  from  his  own  family,  and  the  Chris- 
tian household  connected  with  the  mission. 
His  opportunities  for  preaching,  during  the 
week  also,  ho  says,  are  less  encouraging  than 
they  were  thiee  years  ago.  There  are  fewer 
persons  who  attend  upon  these  religious  ser- 
vices, and  they  manifest  much  less  interest  in 
the  facts  of  Christianity.  He  seldom  meets  tho 
young  men  who  tlien  wore  accustomed  to  come 
in  his  way,  and  seemed  disposed  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  Christian  ideas.  It  is  now  four- 
teen years  since  tho  work  of  tho  Gospel  was 
commenced  in  this  ])lace.  Much  labor  has 
been  undertaken  :  we  have  much  desired  suc- 
cess, and  still  we  sow,  and  pray,  and  hope.  I 
hope  I  m^v  be  able  to  do  sometliing." 

And  this  is  all !  While  missionaries  "  hope 
and  pray  to  be  able  to  do  something,"  the 
poor  unconverted  heathen  die  and  go  to  per- 
dition— according  to  Christian  theory — and 
tho  God  who  has  promised  to  "  answer 
prayer"  will  not  open  the  eyes  of  the  blind, 
but  will  witness  with  inditlerenco  their  grad- 
ual a|)proacli  to  tho  pr(!cii)ico  of  destruction ! 

With  respect  to  Chinese  missions,  another 
American  i)aper,  tho  Herald  says,  "  Tho  pig- 
tail celestials  of  tho  '  tlowery  kingdom'  do 
not  take  very  kindly  to  Christianity.  With 
twentyfour  missionaries  and  twrlm  native 
helpers  iu  China,  tho  American  Foreign  Mis* 


\ 


X 


^mmmm 


M 


EXETER    HALL. 


I' 


'"C 


Bion  organization  reportB  the  'baptism  of  a 
fird  eimvrrt,'  a  man  wlio  was  of  '  respectable 
condition.'  Millions  of  money  contributed  in 
the  United  States  to  convert  the  Chinese,  and 
the  result  is  a  solitary  baptism !  Half  the 
money  would  have  secured  the  bai)ti8m  of  ten 
thousand  worse  heathens  here  at  our  own 
door."* 

From  this  statement,  it  is  to  be  presumed 
that  the  twelve  " native  helpers"  are  inter- 
preters— mere  hirelinffs — each  of  whom,  in 
the  intervals  of  service,  bum  incense  before 
a  "  family  ^od"  in  his  own  particular  Joss- 
House. 

British  journals  have,  time  after  time,  ad- 
mitted that  several  missions  to  PajHsts,  Jews, 
and  heathens  have  been  deplorable  failures. 
And  still  restless  visionaries  ccmtinue  to  en- 
courage the  religiously  romantic  to  wander 
"  from  pole  to  pole"  in  costly  and  wasteful 
attempts  to  supplant  one  absurdity  by  the 
propagation  of  another,  as  if  oblivious  of  the 
personal  and  intellectual  misery  that  broods 
around  the  thousands  of  heathens  at  home. 

That  distinguished  London  clergyman.  Dr. 
Pusey,  admitting  the  folly  of  this  pious  ro- 
mance, says,  "  There  are  places  in  Londcm,  as 

I  have  myself  seen,  where  for  generation  af- 
ter generation  the  name  of  Christ  has  never 
reached,  and  their  inhabitants  had  much 
bettei'  have  been  born  in  Calcutta  than  in 
London,  because  the  charity  which  sends 
forth  Christian  missionaries  would  the  sooner 
reach  them." 

So  much,  then,  for  my  Lord  Shaftesbury's 
"  Gospel  triumphs  in  foreign  lands." 

We  are  also  told  by  the  President  of  the 
Bible  Society,  that  the  ambastsadors  from  Mad- 
agascar would  be  ready  and  rejoiced  to  carry 
back  to  their  own  land  a  narrative  of  the  tri- 
umphs which  they  had  witnessed  in  England. 
Now  for  a  recital  of  some  of  these,  which  are 

•  Dr.  Livinpstone.in  one  of  his  latest  works  on  AlVica, 
enid  that/w/y  misnioniirlcs  htid  been  siirritlccd  to  tlio 
deadly  clinmte  of  that  continent,  even  bcl'orc  the  flrst 
heathen  had  been  converted  1 

Ap  a  ml  off,  however,  to  the  depressing  missionary 
reports  given  ui  this  chapter,  a  late  relijjiious  journal 
(Feb.  IWJS)  states  that,  "Si.Nty  years  ago,  there  were 
no  Protestant  Christians  in  Travancore,  Southern  In- 
dia. Now.  what  do  we  behold »  There  are  at  this 
point  alone  27.000.  and  .^iOO  native    assistants,  and 

II  ordained  native  niinistero.  At  Nagcreoil,  ihe  prin- 
cipal station  in  the  district,  there  is  a  largo  Christian 
village  of  800  souls,  a  printing  office,  girls'  boarding- 
school,  native  church,  and  boys'  school,  with  theologi- 
cal classes,  with  iliree  European  and  two  native  or- 
daiued  missionaries.    Wonderful  triumphs  of  grace  !" 

And  ajcain  ;  "There  ore  now  twenty-five  Protes- 
tant missionary  societies  that  are  laboring  in  India. 
Of  these,  three  arc  organized  In  Scotland,  eight  in 
Kngland.  yne  in  Ireland,  four  on  the  continent  of  Eu- 
rope, and  nine  in  America.  These  societies  maintain 
about  550  missionaries,  and  expend  annually  in  that 
country  not  far  from  |1, 250,000."— J/bn^rco^  Daily 
Wi/itenti,  Feb.  1868 

These  succes  ie.<,  after  siaiy  years'  labor,  are  said  to 
be  "  wondernil  triumphs  of  grace  1"  but  ccmld  less  bo 
expected  IVom  such  delcrmined  efforts  to  Christian- 
ize 1  And  what  more  meagre  result  could  be  reason- 
ably anticipated  where  550 active  iutelligent  inissiona- 
lics,  sustafued  by  an  annual  amount  of  #1,250,000,  arc 


alas  I  too  openly  displayed  within  tho  boun- 
daries of  the  Christian  city  of  London. 

Beligion  in  that  great  metropolifi  has  about 
one  thousand  costly  temples  to  accommodate 
a  wrangling  multitude  of  contending  sects, 
whose  mutual  denunciations  aio  dten  rather 
startling.  It  has  several  thousand  trained 
priests— divinely  chosen — who  are  willing  to 
manifest  great  anxiety  for  the  "  salvation  of 
sinners,"  and  conduct  them  by  various  short 
roads  to  heaven  for — ready  pay.  And  as  an 
evidence  of  the  great  benefit  arising  irom  the 
teaching  and  practice  of  these  devoted  men, 
there  are  to  bo  found  among  the  vast  number 
of  metropolitan  sinners  one  hundred  thou- 
sand prostitutes,  over  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  thieves,  robbers,  and  vagabonds ; 
while,  according  to  the  estimate  of  sin  eminent 
coroner.  Dr.  Lancaster,  the  result  of  a  hidden 
frailty  is  twelve  thousand  cases  of  infanticide 
annually.  There  is,  then,  a  large  portion  of  a 
standing  army  to  intimidate  into  sulimission 
a  majority  of  the  people,  who  would  other- 
wise resist  oppressive  laws  over  which  they 
are  denied  a  controlling  voice.  Then  there 
are  thousands  of  policemen  required  lo  detect 
crime,  and  numerous  prisons,  and  judges,  and 
hangmen  to  deal  with  offenders  !     The  death 


to  almost  every  partof  the  civilized  world,  andltal- 
re^ady  claims  about  300.000  converts,  "rescued"  from 
Christianity  !  Are  not  these  triumphs  of  the  Mormon 
gospel  a  greater  wonder  i— Author. 


penalty  is  strictly  scriptural ;  therdore  true 
mercy  is  not  yet  the  quality  of  Christian  legis- 
lation. 

But  London  is  the  headquarters  of  the  state 
church.  What  evidence  can  that  church 
give  of  its  usefulness?  While  some,  like 
Lord  Shaftesbury,  can  boast  of  iinaglnary 
triumphs,  that  particular  and  fiiv(^d  corner 
of  the  "  Lord's  vineyard  "  can  exhibit  tangible 
trophies ;  and  while  like  a  mockery  it  can  af- 
fect to  despise  "  the  pomps  and  vanities  of 
this  wicked  world,"  its  tico  ])rinci-ly  arch- 
bishops can  conscientiously  accept  and  divide 
with  each  other  £25,000  sterlin</,  (over  $120,- 
000)  annually  for  their  spiritual  superinten- 
dence, and  its  twenty-fAx  other  bishops  can  as 
unscrupulously  demand  and  distribute  among 
themselves,  in  the  same  way,  over  £1555,000, 
(about  $050,000,)  as  compensation  for  their 
pious  services,  and  these  exorbitant  sums  are 
independent  of  what  is  derived  fmni  other 
numerous  sources  of  ghostly  \)rofit.  Then 
add  to  these  the  immense  amount  ];aid  to  the 
increasing  horde  of  the  minor  clerical  adher- 
ents of  the  Established  Church,  and  its  use- 
fulness seems  to  consist  in  perpetuating  a 
mvmstrous  fraud,  and  in  impoverishing  the 
nation.* 

Let  the  ambassadors  from  Madagascar  wit- 
ness these  "  triumphs,"  and  upon  their  return 
to  their  native  land,  where  evt-n  ])agan  savages 
do  not  as  regularly  die  of  starvation,  let  them 
narrate  tiio  sad  tale  of  tho  inyff'ectual  efforts 
of  100,000  wandering  paupers  of  London  in 

*  A  Philadelphia  paper  makes  the  following  remarks: 
"  Payino  Positions.— It  makes  people's  mouths  water 
to  think  of  the  revenue  of  some  of  the  Eiiptlish  ecclo- 
siastieal  flmctionaries.  The  net  rcveuiies  of  tho 
Bisho))ric  of  London,  for  tho  year  "ISOS,  were  $100,.3.35 
in  gold  ;  of  the  IJean  and  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's  Catho- 
dral,  London,  $:A,im  in  gold;  and  of  the  Dean  and 
Chai)ter  of  Westminster  Abbey,  iflW.Oa-)  lu  goUl."(I!) 
Yet  this  very  paper  is  noted  for  its  obsequiousnosH  to 
tho  horde  ot  wealthy  sectarian  priests  iu  lliat  (iospol- 
blightcd  city,  and  does  not  utter  one  wvrL'  agauiHt 
8UUU  prioHlly  bwiudllng.— .du^ior. 


EXETER    HALL. 


97 


the  boon- 
Ion. 

I  hue  about 
oiiiiuodate 
ling  sects, 
'ten  rather 
1(1  trained 
willing  to 
.Ivation  of 
rious  short 
And  as  an 
g  from  the 
'^oted  men, 
ist  number 
lived  thou- 
1  and  fifty 
ajxabonds ; 
II u  eminent 
f  a  bidden 
infanticide 
■ortion  of  a 
sul)mission 
)uld  other- 
•hich  they 
riien  there 
id  lo  detect 
judges,  and 
Th(}  death 
n-lore  true 
stian  logis- 

Df  the  state 

lat   church 

some,  like 

mi  aginary 

wkd  corner 

lit  tangible 

y  it  can  af- 

vanities  of 

ci-ly    arch. 

and  divide 

)ver  $120,- 

superinten- 

i(i})s  can  as 

lit  o  among 

£i;J5,000, 

for  their 

sums  are 

roHi  other 

)tit.    Then 

];aid  to  the 

ical  adher- 

nd  its  use- 

(ituating  a 

li^hing  the 

(jascar  wit- 
leir  return 
an  savages 
1,  lot  thom 
ual  eflbrts 
London  in 

na;  remarks : 
louths  water 
ii^lish  ccclo- 
iiR'8  of  the 
•ic  ^100,335 
'aul'H  Cutlie- 
lu  Dean  and 
in  j?()I(1.'"(ll) 
iiioiii<noHH  to 
Ihat  (lOHDol- 
^^irC  ajfuInRt 


their  fooblo  endeavors  to  provide  food,  loth- 
ing,  and  shelter.  Let  them  witnesB  the  htrug- 
glo  between  hope  and  (Icpnair  of  thewt  bap- 
U'/ihI  Christians,  and  how  sad  and  how  reluc- 
tantly many,  very  many  of  these  let  loose 
their  last  hold  on  virtue  to  bo  hurried  onward 
and  downward  to  crime  by  the  (extortion  niid 
rapacity  of  priestcraft,  and  by  the  uHurpntion 
of  a  scliish,  rnfeeling  aristocracy.  Pt  rhai)S 
tho  narration  oi  these  triumphal  woes  might 
even  suti'uso  tlie  eyt?  of  sonu^  dusky  savagt;, 
and  tears  might  wear  a  channel  <m  his  painted 
cheek.  Yet,  behold  !  Sets  <»ur  Christian  bisli- 
0))S,  and  priests,  and  merchant  princes,  and 
nobil'ty  stand  by  and  look  compliin-ntly  on 
these  reputed  "triumphs,"  and  while  ostenta- 
tiously giving  a  lilu-ral  donation  f<(r  the 
"spread  of  the  Gospel,"  dole  out  hut  an  in- 
significant i)ittance  for  the  relief  of  their  fam- 
ishing countrymen. 


CHAPTER  XIX.* 

The  president  took  his  seat,  and  all  seemed 
anxiouii  to  h«  ar  the  8|)eech  on  the  first  resolu- 
tion, esjM'cially  as  it  was  to  emaiiate  from 
one  of  th(*  mitred  faculty  whose  vencnition 
for  "  The  Word"  had  gradually  increase!!  with 
his  salary,  and  whose  dower  as  a  vi'*'latical 
'/ridegrooni  of  the  church  militant  is  ])aid  to 
luin  in  (iiinual  installments  of  ti'i:  ihountnul 
five  hundred  pou)id» sterling,  (about  sts.j'^.OOO.) 

When  A,\w  applause  sui)sided,  the  Lord 
Bishoi»  or  Winchester  Piiisl,  iliat  hi;  ivmo^ 
then-  as  having  h-  xtx  an  old  friend  of  the  socie- 
ty for  more  t!ian  half  a  century,  and  had  the 
privileo"*  to  be  numbered  among  itsvic(^- 
pmsitlciits.  Ih'  liad  often  reflected  with  ])lea- 
sure  upon  the  second  i)art  of  ihe  description  of 
their  society,  [it  was  the  British  and  Foreign 
Hible  yocii'ty.Jaiid  wIumi  he  luul  heard  the  list 
of  places  in  wiiicli  the  word  of  (iod  had  been 
circulated  daring  the  past  year,  the  imjiortauce 
of  the  t'oniign  branch  was  more  forcilile.  ]<]r 
ror,  like  some  of  th(^  distmiers  whicli  atli'ct  t\w 
human  body,  -.ccnKMl  to  return  from  tiiiu^  to 
time  with  ju'riodical  recnrri  uce.  'I'he  cn'ors 
of  the  pres'ut  were  the  eJTors  of  tlie  ]iiist. 
Then;  was  notliing  new  under  tlu'  sun,  and  as- 
suredly nothing  ni!W  i,n  skepticism  and  free 
thinking.  The  Voltaires  of  anotli(U"  country, 
and  the  Paines  of  their  own,  or  tlie  duriiifl 
i^nrit.-,  of  modern  tiitten,  over  whom  tiiey  had 
to  lament,  and  of  whom  ihey  were  aMhamei|, 
but  of  whom  they  were  not  afraid,  they  had 
said  notliing  in  that  day  which  luul  not  been 
said  in  times  jmst.  The  Bible  and  the  society 
had  sutlered  from  recurring  attacks,  and  some- 
times among  other  disputes  the  Trinitarian 
C(mtroversy  divided  their  frii'uds.  He  wished, 
as  an  old  nunnberof  the  society,  very  humbly, 
and  vrith  much  deference,  to  make  a  sugges- 
tioa — to  nuiintain  with  the  most  untiiuchinj^ 
resolution  the  supremacy  of  "  dioine  revela- 
tion. Unsf(ttle  that  i)rinciple,  and  you  shake 
tlio  foundation  of  your  faith  ;  sap  that  pillar, 

•Tlin  gpoochcs  contained  In  this  chapter  are  an 
•bridgmtMit  ol'  thoK(!  (Icliverod  at  tho  nmiiinl  mui-ling 
Of  tho  Britlt^h  and  Foreign  Bil)lu  Society,  held  in  Exo- 
tet  Hall,  Loudon,  May  4th,  m^il. 


and  you  have  nothing  «n  which  to  rest  the  solo 
of  your  foot."  W(!  lived,  he  said,  in  an  age  of 
controversy ;  he  did  not  regret  t,  for  ho 
thought  that  the  more  they  incpiire  1  into  and 
st-arched  tho  Bible,  the  more  they  vnuld  find 
in  it  the  true  nninna  of  tlie  soul,  t  at  which 
they  needed  for  time  and  eternity. 

After  this  specimen  of  ju'elatical  8up])ort 
and  assumption,  tlio  resolution  was  seconded, 
in  a  short  but  unnnmning  speesh,  by  Lord 
t'harles  Russell. 

A  Metliodist  minister  was  then  permitted 
to  move  tho  second  resolution  ;  he  made  a 
very  ])rosy  display — a  mixture  of  pomposity, 
pedantry,  and  egotism,  winch  was  highly  ap- 
l»lauded  by  his  own  particular  denomination, 
biit  which  otherwise  seemed  to  produce  a 
w(>arying  cflect  upon  those  who  were  compel- 
led to  listen. 

He  was  foHowed  by  tho  Bishop  of  Ripon, 
who  stated  that  lu;  liad  observed  from  one  of 
the  ]mp(;rs  that  a  subscriber  for  the  present 
year  had  doubled  his  df)nation,  because  fhe 
Bible  had  become  Sf>  invch  dishonored.  He 
sympathized  with  that  feeling,  for  to  him  it 
was  a  positive  rt?lief  to  exjiress  his  maliated 
confidence  and  undiminished  ii(i.icli:!ient, 
when  the  Bibh;  had  been  dishonored  by  its 
professed  friends.  This  innuendo  against  a 
l»rother  bishoji — Colenso — was  n^ceived  with 
loud  ap](ikiuse.  Ibit,  he  ccmtinued,  if  the 
Bible  had  been  dishonored  by  man,  it  has 
been  honored  of  (Iod,  as  was  manifested  in  a 
greater  amount  of  contril)uti(ms  than  the 
soci(!ty<Si\d  e\"er  before  received  in  one  year  I 
It  was  to  him  delightful  to  think,  that  amidst 
ail  tlie  eontentions  and  divisions  by  which  the 
visible  churcli  of  Chn>t  was  unhapjiily  so 
much  torn  and  divided,  there  should  be  one 
sacred  platform,  up(m  which  Christians  of 
every  den(miinati(m  could  meet  together,  and 
where  all  could  agree  that  the  Bible  was  the 
word  of  (i(xl,  to  which  one  and  all  would 
unitedly  bow,  and  to  which  they  rendered 
homage  as  the  supreme  and  only  inl'ailible 
sourct;  of  all-saving  truth.  They  had  met 
there  because  they  believed  that  the  Bible 
was  the  most  blessed  gilt  of  Clod  to  a  fallen 
world,  and  it  was  the  bounden  duty  of  all 
who  jxissi'ssed  that  inesiimaidy  preciems  trea- 
sure to  endeavor  to  communicate  it  to  those 
who  had  it  not.  He  l)elieved  tlwit  they  had 
notliing  to  fear  from  the  attacks  to  whi-.  li  the 
Bil)le  was  exjiosed;  there  was  nothing  new 
in  them,  notliing  that  had  not  Ixm'u  often 
started  before  ;  there  was  nothing,  he  believed, 
which  the  word  of  (lod  did  not  jn-epare  them 
to  expect  in  the  last  days.  As  was  onc(!  said 
to  one  who  was  siuferiug  at  tho  word  of  (iod, 
and  ridiculing  the  Bil)le  as  an  imposture, 
"  It  is  the  existence  of  such  men  as  you  that 
makes  me  believe  tho  Bible  iS  \¥\w  \  for  tho 
Bible  tells  us,  that  in  the  last  days  there  shall 
coine  scofl'ers,  and  if  it  were  not  for  sucli  jier- 
sons  as  vou,  we  should'  se<an  to  want  one  cre- 
dential for  the  truth  of  the  Bible."  (!) 

Verily  if  this  be  a  valid  claim  for  the  truth 
of  Chri.?tian  inspiration,  it  is  one  easily  made, 
and  one  which  has  often  supported  other  tot- 
t(!ring  systems  of  error.  God,  continued  the 
Bishop,  had  made  the  Bible  to  be  its  own  « it- 
ness,  and  had  thereby  placed  within  the  reach 


"•ipl 


98 


EXETER    HALL. 


m 


! 


\H 


of  the  humolost  inquirer  the  moans  of  ascer- 
taining to  Ids  ornt  mtixfartion  the  divine  au- 
thority of  the  memige.  (?)  But  tlicy  were  not 
to  give  up  external  evidence  by  wliieh  it  may 
be  as  satisfactorily  established  that  tlu^  Bible 
is  the  word  of  God ;  that,  witli  respect  to  the 
Bible,  while  it  was  not  given  to  man  in  order 
to  teach  science,  there  was  not  a  single  sen- 
tence in  the  Bible  contrary  to  true  sclenct^ ; 
and  tliat  whatciver  appeared  in  science  to  con- 
tradict the  word  of  God  is  rather  to  be 
spoken  of  aa  "oppositions  of  science  falsely 
so  called !" 

If  i)iit  to  the  test,  the  dogmatism  of  this 
bishop  might  lead  him  into  difficulty  to  find  a 
proof  eijual  to  his  flippancy  of  asserti<m.  IIov 
doctors  difler  !  particularly  those  who  chum  to 
be  genuine  successors — even  through  a  po])ish 
parentage,  of  the  inspired  twelve.  Yet  truly 
they  may  be  apostolic  in  one  sense ;  inr  we 
fincl  by  the  n  vered  (Jospel  records  that  their 
authors  were  by  no  means  unaninunison  points 
of  faith  and  doctrine,  and  their  ins])ire<l  con- 
tradictions, as  to  time,  place,  circumstance,  and 
otlier  essentials,  have  l)een  a  heritage  of  jier- 
l)lexity  to  the  more  learned,  dignified,  and  as- 
suming "  right  reverend  fathers  in  God"  of 
these  latter  days.  If  God  made  the  Bible  to 
be  its  own  witness  to  the  "  humble  in(piirer," 
the  beneficed  bish()])S  cnn  not  claim  to  be  of 
that  class  :  for  no  other  body  of  men  in  Chris- 
tendom have  tended  to  mystify  the  alleged 
"plain  meaning"  of  Scripture  more  than  the 
lordly  ])relatical  teachers  of  Bome  and  Eng- 
land. Ah  !  but  science  has  dared  to  witness 
against  inspiration !  Science,  that  never  errs, 
but  with  the  torch  of  truth  in  its  good  right 
hand  flashes  down  n]ion  the  deformity  of 
error,  and  upon  its  darkness,  its  mystery,  and 
its  jn-etension.  My  Lord  of  Kipim,  however,  is 
not  aljashed  ;  he  still  hugs  this  "  best  gift  of 
God,"  with  all  its  glaring  inaccuracies,  rather 
than  admit  the  opposition  of  tliis  "  science 
falsely  so  called." 

To  men  of  determined  faith,  nothing  is  truth 
that  will  expose  an  error  in  the  Bil)ie.  Sim- 
ilar to  the  wisdom  of  an  Indian  prince,  who, 
it  is  said,  trampled  a  microscope  to  pieces 
because  it  revealed  to  his  astonished  view 
living  animalcula  in  the  food  and  water  from 
whidi  he  had  just  partaken.  Like  many  oth- 
ers, the  Bishop  of  liipon  tells  us,  in  one;  breath, 
that  the  Bible  was  not  given  to  man  to  teach 
science — evidently  in  doul)t  himself  of  its  scien- 
tific correctness — and  yet  that  then*  was  no- 
thing in  it  contrary  to  true  science  !  Now,  were 
philoso])hers  to  admit  such  an  anomaly  ii»  false 
science,  we  wonder  where  it  could  be  found 
mor(i  elaborately  displayed  than  among  th(^ 
"  sacred  pages"  of  "  God's  most  blessed  gift 
to  man." 

However,  the  bishops  are  not  all  so  incau- 
tious. Many  excuses  and  ex])hmations  have; 
been  framed  for  the  extraordinary  legends  of 
biblical  cosmogony  ;  and  i*"  the  superiijr  intel- 
ligence, or  more  general  investigation  of  the 
age  has  forced  a  reluctant  assent  from  many 
of  the  clerical  sn:auti*,  it  is  satisfactory  to  find 
one  so  spiritually  and  temporally  endowed  as 
the  right  honorable  and  right  rev<>rend  the 
Lord  Bishop  of  London  yielding  so  gracious- 
ly.   In  one  of  bis  discourses,  published  about 


the  very  time  tho  steadfast  Kipon  spoke  so 
confidently  as  to  tiie  acreement  of  the  Bible 
with  true  science,  he  said,  "  it  is  satisfactory 
to  feed  assured  that  no  clergynum  of  the 
Church  of  England  can  \n\  called  on  to  nuiin- 
tain  the  uiiinirraiited  position,  which  indeed 
scarcely  any  hold,  that  the  Bible  is  an  iiifitlli- 
bfe  (juide  in  (pustions  of  jihymrtd  Kn( uce." 
What  an  admii-sion  !  Until  lately,  the  almost 
universal  orthodox  cry  resounded  that  the 
Bibh?  was  al)solute  truth,  in  whole  or  in  ])art ; 
tliat  it  should  lead  in  science  as  in  ])rinciples 
of  faith  :  and  now,  alas!  for  its  worshipers  I 
able  cUrieal  disi)utants  contend  for  and  against 
the  validity  of  its  science  and  its  inspiration, 
and  even  venture  to  question  its  entire'  credi- 
l)ility. 

Th(^  T?ev. "  Cannon"  Stowell  next  addressed 
the  assemblage.  lie  said,  that  although  it 
had  l)een  his  privilegt;  to  attend  the  anniver- 
srry  nu'etings  of  that  institution,  he  never  re- 
,  .-mberedto  have  taken  part  in  one  of  so  pro- 
foundl}'  interesting  a  character,  especially  so 
on  account  of  the  gathering  assault  that  was 
making  on  tho  great  citadel  of  their  faith — 
the  inspired  word  of  God.  Kot,  alas !  simply 
from  without,  but  from  within  the  visible 
church.  If  there  were  any  originality  at  all 
in  the  attack,  it  was  not  found  in  the  argu- 
ments, but  in  the  men  who  employ  tliem.  It 
was  this  which  gave  such  an  a])parent  autheu- 
tieity  to  those  arguments,  not  from  any  intrin- 
sic weight  that  belonged  to  them.  Ti.  ■  Bri- 
tish and  Foreign  Bible  Society  was  giving  such 
men  one  of  tlu;  best  refutations.  It  was  show- 
i  ir.g  that  t<>  simple,  humble,  iionest.  l)elieving 
men,  those  arguments  were  without  ]iower  oi 
Cduviction.  That  society  had  written  upcm  its 
cohu's:  "The  Bible,  the  whole  Bible,  aiid 
nothing  but  the  Bible  ;"  it  Avas  truth  without 
a  mixture  of  error.  He  considered  the  ques- 
ti<m  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible  as  the  (jues- 
tion  of  the  day  ;  the  one  on  which  his  reve- 
rend breiiiren  more  ])articularly  ought  to  be 
established.  He  thank(;d  God  that  tliat  socie- 
ty held  strenuously  to  the  irhole  Bil)le ;  for  they 
never  could  sever  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments ;  they  stood  or  fell  together.  The  New 
rested  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Old ;  if  they 
struck  down  one,  they  infallibly  brought  down 
the  other.  Tlu^  Old  Testanu'Ut  was  the  divine 
porch  to  the  temple  of  the  New,  and  he  who 
did  not  enter  the  temjde  by  tlu^  front  door 
could  never  find  the  eternal  truths  of  (iod. 
I  The  Old  Testament  Scriptures  were  not  sujur- 
!  seded  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  were,  if  possible, 
j  more  intelligible,  more  impressive,  more  vital 
than  evi'r.  Then  let"th(i  Bible,  the  whole 
Bil)le.  and  nothing  but  the  Bible"  be  the  watch- 
word of  that  society.  The  more  the  evidiaici  s 
I  of  Christianity  were  examined,  the  mf)re  tlu'v 
;  would  be  luind  impregnalde,  iDsul)vertil)le. 
The  martyrs  knew  the  Bible  to  be  true.  They 
!  had  heard  much  of  tho  lotulers  of  the  noble 
'  army  of  martyrs — their  Cranmers,  Latimers, 
and  Bidh'ys ;  but  they  had  heard  too  little  of 
21001'  j)e(fnfiiitii,ixi\d  mecht^nies,  and  dmple  ico- 
men  who  had  dXvA  for  their  Bible.  What  a 
noble  testimony  it  was,  that  men  who  could 
not  write  for  it,  or  could  not  argue  for  it,  yet 
could  die  for  it ;  and,  by  dying  for  it,  could  give 
tho  noblest  evidence  of  its  truth.     Ho  would 


MP 


EXETER    HALL. 


09 


hoff  of  tliom  not  to  be  disturbing  their  minds 
by  tli(!  doubts  and  olyectious  thiit  wito  float- 
iiiyf  about ;  tlmy  bad  only  to  wait,  and  trutli 
must  CDUU)  forih  triumphant  from  tiio  strufjr- 
fflo.  Tlio  (;u<jf<r(!stin;;  dilHcultit'-  of  art,  his- 
tory, and  aritliuieiic  need  not  i)o  met  until 
tlicy  wiTo  worth  mci'linj^;  silcnco  was  often 
tlu'  bi'st  answer.  Ix't  seieutific  objt'rtions, 
novel  sixrulations, and  vain  ciilcuiiitlons  bend 
to  tlio  IJible;  they  coubl  not  consent  tluit  the 
liilih;  should  bend  to  them.  It  would  indicate 
a  sense  of  insecurity,  were  tliey  always  en- 
deavoriufj  to  meet  objections.  Our  lieautiful 
)>assa<fe  in  the  word  of  (iod  was  worthy  of 
all  acceptance  at  that  juncture,  "Let  (iod  bo 
true,  and  every  nuiu  a  liar."  Let  critical  inffe- 
iinity  lind  out,  ((■■i  it  I'cukl.  various  ditlicuities 
ami  doubts,  yet  "letCiod  bo  true,  and  every 
man  a  liar."  That  was  still  their  confidence. 
Tiu're  mijjht  be  errors  of  translation  ;  passa^^es 
that  ouji'ht  to  be  eliminated,  then;  mijj;ht  have 
been  introductions  yy{  ulir/ht  mixt'ikeit ;  l)ut  still, 
the  word  of  (bid  in  its  intejrrity,  as  it  came 
from  those  jjfuiiled  by  the  hand  of  (b)d,  con- 
tained "  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
hulking  b'lt  the  tnUh."  (I)  "  They  should  spread 
it  wherever  maw  was  found  ;  they  should 
trust  in  the  Ibble,  rest  on  theHible,  livti  by  the 
Bible,  die  in  the  faith  of  tln^  Bible,  and  it  would 
carry  them  sate  to  a  land  where  there  was  no 
more  doubt  or  darkness." 

Were  it  necessary  to  obtain  the  testimony 
of  a  blind  belitn'er  in  "divine  revelation,"  it 
would  be  ditKcult  to  find  one  more  ex])licit  or 
satisfactory  than  that  contained  in  the  jiriest- 
ly  haranjjfuo  of  this  reverend  canon  f)f  the 
British  State  ("hurch.  It  miyht  be  uncharita- 
ble to  assert  tluit  sur'h  persons  are,  perha|)S,  as 
much  iniluenced  on  behalf  of  tlu*  Bible  by  the 
certainty  of  worhlly  comforts  and  distinctions, 
■which  it  has  Insured  to  priests  as  a  class,  as 
they  are  by  tint  promises  of  a  future  reward  iu 
another  .state  of  existence,  wheie  neither  bene- 
fices, pluralities,  nur  diijrnities  come  into  view 
to  distract  tlu;  head  or  l".'.r:l^»i  the  conscience. 
But  when  we  refifct  that  it  is  comparatively 
but  a  short  jieriod  i)ack  in  history  i'^ince  the  cler- 
ical ])redecessors  of  the  reverend  canon,  like 
the  "  sainted  Cranmer,"  were,  for  the  sidie  of 
earthly  endowments,  just  as  ready  to  rise  into 
oratori(,'al  fii<;hts  concerninjf  the  infylliliility 
of  ])opish  decrei's  and  tradition  as  they  are 
now  to  denounces  the  "  Man  of  Sin,"  and  stu- 
pidly cry  out,  "  The  Bible,  the  whole  Bible,  and 
nothin;^  but  the  Bible,"  one  miyht  not  be  far 
astray  in  iinputiu}^  this  vjicillatiufi;  zeal  to 
their  characteristic  {rrei;d,  instead  of  to  their 
more  particular  or  conscientious  reyard  for 
trutii.  For  {jaii  ,  tlieob)<>y  has  canonized 
many  popular  a' surdities. 

But  then  we  ire  told  that  there  is  "notJniif/ 
orif/iiidl"  iu  the  attack,  nothinjj  novel  in  the 
arfyuments.  What  a  subterfuji'e,  what  conso- 
lation I  It  would  indeed  be  a  lever  in  the 
hands  of  i)riests  W(n-o  they  truly  able  to  assert 
that  the  iniitlel  objections  of  the  present  day 
were  Iftit  novelties — witnesses  which  had 
never  testified  before ;  but  because  these  ob- 
jections are  old,  and  have  thereby  acquired 
additional  force ;  because  tlu^y  have  been  the 
protest  of  reason  ajj^ainst  superstition  century 
after  century,  even  from  the  beginning,  they 


are,  therefore,  according  to  the  decree  of  our 
preseni  clerical  pnKligies,  to  be  considered  but 
mere  trivialities,  and  only  deriving  "apparent 
authenticity"  on  account  of  having  bet'u  re- 
iterat«-d  by  a  new  race  of  skeptics.  Anoth(^r 
s[)ecinu'n  of  priestly  qiubbling.  It  is  well 
kufiwn  that  the  chimeras  of  religion  have 
ever  been  made  to  appear  more  wortiiy  of  ven- 
eration while  shaded  ami  festooned'  by  the 
c(>bv.ei;s  of  anti(|uity. 

Were  the  objectors  to  Christianity  none 
but  "simple,  humble,  lumest,  believing  men," 
stu'h  as  were  so  paternally  ref(;rred  to  by  the 
reverend  canon,  how  boastfully  the  chinch 
conld  h'jieak  of  the  intelligences  of  ita  adher- 
ents ;  but  becaust,'  those  who  venture  to  jiulge 
the  Bible  according  to  its  wild  but  positive 
statements  and  extravagant  narration  are 
really  among  the  most  enlightened  and  dis- 
crinunatinsjr,  we  are  sagely  told,  that  the  "  best 
refutation"  of  their  arguments  against  revela- 
tion is  that  "poor  peasants,  «/((i  meclidnics, 
and  simjde  women"  remain  steadfast  and  "  had 
died  for  their  Bible."  One  might  wonder  at 
the'  tcnnerity  which  conld  lead  his  reverence 
to  try  to  intellectually  degrade  mechmdcH  by 
including  them  in  such  a  classification.  It  is 
wtdl  known  that  the  artisans  of  Great  Britain, 
likt!  most  of  those  in  other  countries,  are  gen- 
erally found  siding  with  the  intelligent  oiijec- 
tors  to  a  dinnineering  sujierstition ;  and  a  large 
majority  of  those  very  mechanics  continue 
stidfborn  and  determined  in  their  resistance  to 
clerical  oppression.  Of  this,  there  is  abandaut 
proof.  So  much  for  the  mechanics.*  But  as- 
suming that  the  revtjrend  canon  had  cotifined 
himself  strictly  to  the  truth,  coidd  the  fact  of 
there  being,  or  having  been,  any  numl.er  of 
"  pc.or,  simple,  humble  women,"  or  peasants, 
or  mechanics,  awed,  mystified,  or  deluded  by 
the  "  foolishness  of  preaching"  be  fairly 
claimed  as  a  refutation  of  the  sound  reason- 
able argiiments  against  biblical  assertion  '*  It 
is  obvious  that  such  a  concession  to  tlui  misty 
logic  of  Kx(?ter  Hall  would  grant  e([ual  sta- 
bility to  the  pretensions  of  ))oi)ery  or  pagan- 
ism, or  of  any  other  ism  which  could  jn'oduce  a 
multitude  of  "  jioor,  sim[>lo,  humble,"  ignorant 

*  In  HM  itrticlo  oa  '•  Tlic  Workini,'  Classes  and  Chri*- 
tiaiiity."'  tlie  London  I'aliiot  says :  •■  Tliut  notjire  iwr 
out  oi'llic  WDrkini;  classus  -tluit  is,  ol'tho  tniu"  luuid- 
ditral'tsnicn,  I'miii  the  skiilod  optical  insirumoiit 
maker  and  eiiLrinecrs,  down  to  the  bricklayers'  la- 
borers—ever eiuer  the  cluirclics  and  chapels  wllU 
which  this  professedly  christian  land  i.s  covered.  Per- 
liai)s  it  is  true  :  certainly  it  must  be  something  near  ttie 
truth.  \ery  lew  artisans  are  to  be  seen  in  the  line 
churches  of  the  establishment,  or  in  tlie  cliapels  of  the 
Conirrev'utionalists.  In  some  i)arls(jf  the  country,  and  ' 
amonnsl  some  classes  of  laborers,  the  Wesleyans  Inive 
liad  their  snccesses;  liiU  the  very  larire  majority  of  at- 
tendants at  Wesleyaa  chaiiels  are,  we  take  it,yalhered 
from  the  small  shop-keepers  also." 

A  clertryman— the  l{ev.  Edwai'd  White— anxious  to 
discover  the  cause  oftl  Ki  "  religious  indill'ereuce,"  re- 
folvet'i  to  LTo  amonu;  hu  \. .nkin','-mea  and  ask  tlieta 
personally,  "Why  tliey  ne\er  went  to  chuichV  Ho 
gives  the  ivpllesas  taken  down.  The  following  aro 
specimens:  "Tiie  i>arsonsare  a  bad  lot."  " it's  tliolr 
living,  that's  why  they  preach."  "The  parson.s  are  at 
the  i)ott<>m  of  all  the  villainy."  "  They  preach,  but 
very  lew  of  tliein  pnictice."  "Tliere's  not  a  worse 
class  of  men  on  earth  than  Ijishops  and  parsons."  "lt'9 
all  done  to  frighten  the  jieople,  and  to  keej)  tliom 
down."  "  I  liad  cnougli  of  religion  and  impriaoaineut 
lit  the  Stinday-schoot"  "I  went  to  church  to  KC* 
married,  and  that's  enough  for  me."  Sucli  ready  re 
1)1  ie8  from  toveral  "  isimple  mcchautcn''  are  full  of  meay 
fug. 


^im^mmm 


100 


EXETER    HALL. 


i/n*;' 


it 

Iff.. 


>.»•;■ 


Bupporters.  If  simplicity  and  rrodulity  arc 
sufficient  to  counterbalance  intclli/^fcnce  and 
invcstijiation,  then  Christianity  and  c«)gnato 
forms  of  8Ui)erHution  Imvo  ^ainrd  tlio  day. 

The  Bible  is  such  u  "  towor  of  strengtli"  to 
believers  that  its  ariojrant  nnd  mercenary 
teachers  are  never  tired  of  n^^ertinfj  its  "  im- 
prejcrnability."  Assault  and  undermine  this 
erundjling  fortress  of  iiis])  ration  as  you  may. 
its  reverend  (loliafhs  will  rav«  away  as  loftily 
as  ever,  and  furiously  brandish  their  broken 
■\Teapons  ;  and  as  they  proudly  strut  al)out  on 
the  ruins  of  tlie  "  older  and  outer  worlds"  of 
the  fated  citadel,  will  boastfully  shout  of  its 
"  insubvertiliility,"  even  while  the  calm  and 
impartial  spectator  can  observe  the  sinking  or 
overturninfj  of  its  very  foundations. 

\Ve  aro  told  from  thu  platform  of  Exeter 
Hall  that  the  "  su<XiJr»'stii)g  ditfiaulties  of  art, 
history,  and  arithmetic  need  not  be  met ;  that 
silence  was  often  the  best  answer."  What 
an  (ividence  of  weakness !  If  the  professed 
learninfj  of  our  mitred  heads  and  apostolical 
successijrs,  "  lejrifiniate"  ov  "  simrious,"  can 
sufrgest  nothing  better  than  that  scifnce 
"must  bend  to  the  Bible,"  it  is  but  too  plain 
that  they  are  reduced  to  the  ^.ast  extremity. 
T/ifi/,  proudly  confident,  do  not  feel  themselves 
called  ui)on  to  arj^ue  with  unbelievers  ;  "it 
would  indicate  a  sense  of  insecurity  !"  Pressed 
by  their  adversaries,  however,  they  now  atlmit 
that  "then!  may  be  errors  of  translation !" 
How  many  ?  "  Sli(/fit  mistakes !"  What  num- 
ber? Superfluous  passajjes  I  Towhat  extent  V 
Alas !  how  reluctantly  tliese  forced  admissions 
are  laid  at  the  feet  of  truth — admissions, 
which,  to  mak((  but  a  few  years  since,  would 
be  looked  upon  as  a  shijjwreck  of  faith,  almost 
sufficient  to  insure  expulsion  from  the  fold. 
The  time  is  fast  ai)proachin.<f  wlien  the  hired 
advocates  of  a  witherinji'  error  shall  be  exhibit- 
ed to  the  world  in  their  proper  character. 

AVhile  Christian  teachers  are  thus  oblipcMl 
to  cliane-e  their  jiosition  and  resort  to  succes- 
sive new  modes  of  defense,  every  a'-sertion  on 
behalf  of  their  "divine  book"  seems  to  involve 
a  fresh  contradiction;  and  when  cont'ronttKl 
by  the  "  suyiresliny  difficulties  of  art,  liis- 
tory,  arithmetic,  and  science,"  our  jmlpit 
demi-fjods,  after  the  ninuner  of  their  i]a<4an 
prototypes,  enshroud  tlieiuselves  in  niystery, 
and  cry  out  incolienMitly  irom  behind  their 
shifting  cloud,  "The  Bible,  IIk*  Bible;  let 
God  be  true,  »nd  every  man  a  liar." 

Other  speakers  followed  in  jmiise  or  defense 
of  the  "grand  old  story  of  the  Pentateuch;" 
but  notliing  narticHdar  Wiis  offi'red — a  men! 
change  of  I'utHe  assertions.  One  would  ex- 
pect, howevev,  that  from  such  aceleluity  as  the 
Reverend  C.  II.  Spurgeon  some  ]>(^".(  i(ul  rea- 
sons would  be  given  in  support  of  the  "  Book 
of  Books;"  but  when  we  extract  liis  ideas 
from  the  cloud  of  verbiage  which  he  exhibited, 
We  find  but  the  merest  trivialities. 

With  regard  to  objections  against  the  Bilde, 
he  said,  that  for  his  part  he  did  n.)t  under- 
take tlie  task  of  refuting  them,  because  he 
bel'eved  the  logical  facul'y  in  him  was  too 
small ;  that  if  he  were  to  talk  against  arith- 
metical objectors,  he  should  be  like  Uw  boy  in 
the  churchyard  who  whistled  to  keep  hiscour- 
l^e  up.    He  did  not  think  it  was  his  particular 


work,  and  he  believed  that  ninety-nine  out  of 
every  hundred  Christians  were  not  called  for 
the  defense  of  the  (iospel  against  infidel  ol)- 
jectors,  so  much  as  the  pressing  of  that  Gos- 
pel lionie  to  men's  hearts.  Ho  took  it  that 
while  it  wa*»  necessary  to  show  the  true  (juali- 
ty  of  the  Bible,  it  was  also  necessary  to  shov,' 
the  true  answer  to  objectors.  His  nu^tal  was 
of  such  n  kind  that  he  thanked  God  when  the 
adversarii-s  of  truth  were  loudest.  A  slumber- 
ing devil  was  more  to  be  feared  than  a  rtjaring 
devil.  Let  the  devil  roar ;  he  should  but  -wake; 
them  up  from  their  slumbers,  and  nuike  them 
nuire  earnestly  contend  for  truth.  Why  were 
there  no  objections  to  the  Bible  twenty  years 
ago  from  high  and  eminent  idacesV  Because 
they  were  not  necessary  to  Satan's  ends.  (I)  He 
wished  them  to  go  and  evangelize  London,  to 
scatter  light  in  the  dark  alleys,  to  carry  the 
Gosptd  to  the  South  Seas  and  Africa,  and  nuike 
the  whole  Avorld  ring  with  it,  and  they  need 
not  stop  to  answer  olyections.  That  was  the 
best  logic — that  was  the  noblest  argument — 
the  application  of  the  word.  The  way  to  se- 
cure the  mas.ses  would  be  to  secure  them  iihiii 
ijoiniy. 

He  remembered  being  greatly  puzzled 
when  he  was  a  child.  On  a  shelf  in  his 
gruudinother's  jtarlor  was  a  little  vial,  con- 
taining an  apjde  just  the  size  of  the  largest 
part  of  the  bottle.  He  got  the  vial  down,  and 
tried  to  find  out  how  the  ajjple  could  j)os- 
sibly  have  got  down  that  narrow  neck.  He 
thought  that  the  vial  must  have  had  a  false 
ivittom.  But  it  happened,  quite  accidentally, 
tliat  this  great  mystery  of  nature  became  un- 
raveled. One  day,  as  ]w  walked  in  the  gar- 
den, it  occurred  to  him  that  hid)  grandmother 
had  put  a  little  apple  inside  the  botth;  while 
it  was  growiuir,  and  it  had  grown  there  to  its 
present  size.  He  could  not  but  t4ii/iik  of  that 
while  standing  there.  They  could  not  get 
men  under  bildica!  iiiflueiu-e  very  reanily 
after  they  were  grown  up  ;  but  if  they  could  lie 
})Ut  inside  the  Iwittle  when  they  were  little 
ones,  he  was  sure  they  would  be  following  the 
iUiiUogy  of  nature.  He  found  commentaries 
very  useful  ;  but,  after  all,  many  a  text  that 
would  not  oi)en  to  a  commentary  wouM  open 
to  jirayer.  Just  as  the  stone-breakers  went 
down  on  their  knees  to  break  the  flints  on  a 
lien)),  he  believe*!  they  often  broke  up  texts 
belter  on  their  knees  than  in  any  other  posi- 
tion 

'I'hey  should  cultivate  the  highest  reverence 
''or  (mhI's  word,  espt'cially  as  to  their  obedieiuo 
to  it.  The  Bildt!  was  to  be  the  great  pacilica- 
tor  of  all  sects,  the  great  hammer  of  nU 
schi  sunt  tics.  The  Bilile  was  to  be  the  end  of 
all  disunion. 

It  is  evident  that,  like  many  others,  this  last 
j  siieaker  had  attained  his  popidarity  l>y  sjiecial 
appeals  to  the  feelings,  instead  of  to  the  rea 
son.  The  fine,  studied,  pulpit  oratory  of  the 
day  is  nu)stly  a  grand  disjday  of  flashing 
metai)hors,  a  meeting  of  fancy  and  ideality  in 
the  regions  of  cloudy  splendor,  dei>i<'ting  as 
!  realities  the  castellated  piles  and  numerofua 
beautiful  forms  that  rise  up  and  api)ear  io 
golden  and  roseate  hues  on  the  aerial  moun- 
tains of  the  imagination.  Here,  the  preacher 
is  at  home ;  here  he  delights  his  excited  audi- 


EXETER   HALL. 


101 


pnro.  But  let  liim  descend  to  tlio  solid  earth, 
let  him  come  down  to  luird  lacts,  and  he  may 
SiU  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Spnrjreon,  that  he 
dislilicH  the  task  f  ret'iitution.  Lilie  the  Mo- 
lm:iinie<lan,  ho  is  satisfied  with  the  inspira- 
tion of  /tin  hook  ;  he  luunls  not  ohjections,  and 
is  only  anxious  for  its  circulation,  "  to  make 
tlie  world  rin^  with  it." 

But  even  then,  uotwithstaudinjr  all  the 
•xlory  which  Exeter  Hall  has  trit.'d  to  flin^r 
around  tlio  Christian  Scriptures,  we  obtain 
another  admission,  "Tluit  old  Ijirds  can  not 
lie  caujrht  with  chaff"!"  Tiie  nuisscs  must  be 
s.'cured  "  irhin  yoiiiif/,"  or  not  at  all.  You 
must  catch  tliem,  and  bottle  them,  and  mould 
tlieir  ideas  within  the  circlt^  of  thcoiojry,  and 
l)y  that  means  secure  a  new  jjem-ruiion  of 
Cliristiana.  The  Jews,  the  Hrahmins,  and  the 
Mohammedans  succeed  admirably  on  the 
same  juunciple ;  while  skepticism  aloniM)!)- 
talns  its  reenforcements  from  the  vio;orous 
ninks  of  maturity. 

Many  of  the  sturdy  preachers  of  the;  pres- 
ent .lay  were  Ixtttb'd  into  theoiojry  by  their 
<frandnu)thers,  and  they  have  never  yet  been 
uncorked.  These  ar<^  the  class  who,  like  Spur- 
jri'on,  overcome  theological  ditliculties  on 
tiieir  knees;  and  the  Hinty  text  that  will 
neither  yield  to  commentaries  nor  c;)mmon 
sense,  is  sure  to  be  reduced  to  pow«ler 
lieneath  the  potent  influence  of  f,(ith.  Tln-se 
are  they  who  believe  that  the,  Bible,  whi(!!i 
has  been  for  generations  dividing;;  and  sulxli- 
vi'lintr.  and  wiiich  has  been  claimed  as  their 
justilication  by  opiussinjy  ranks  of  furiims 
X.  alots — truly  a  sword  on  the  earth — is  yet  to 
b  •  tlu^  ynnit  hamnun"  of  all  schismatics — the 
end  of  all  di.sunion  I  Assertions  of  this 
character  will  <rain  more  cre(h'uc.'  uimiu  the 
exact  fulfillment  of  the  iirediction  which 
states  that,  "  The  irolf  shall  lie  down  with 
the  lanih"  and  "the  lion  eat  straw  like  an 
ox"!  But,  as  the  question  of  proi»hetical 
inspiration  remains  yet  imdecided,  it  is  jjrob- 
ai)le  that  the  fulfillment  may  be  deferred  to 
an  indefinite  jieriod. 

Every  one  of  the  speakers  at  Exeter  Hall,  on 
referrinyf  to  the  Bible,  aflirined  \\»  full  and  in- 
tire  inspirati(m  in  tlie  most  positive  nnmner. 
Tlie  Bishop  of  Winchester  asserted  that  the  di- 
vine inspiration  of  the  Scripture  "should  be 
nuiintained  with  the  most  unflinchiuff  resolu- 
troii  ;"  that  to  unsettle  that  principle  was  to 
shake  the  foundation  of  faitli,  and  leave 
nothiufr  on  which  to  rest.  Stranjre  that  his 
immediate  predecessor.  Bishop  Lair,  should 
have  held  such  a  different  opinion.  'J'his  jire- 
late,  in  his  work  on  the  Elements  of  Chrintiaa 
Tluuilngy,  says : 

"  When  it  is  said  that  the  Scriptures  are  di- 
vinely inspired,  we  are  not  to  understand  that 
(lod  8u«:<;ested  evern  iixprd  awA  dictated  every 
er.j))'es,<>ioii ;  it  appears  that  the  sacred  penmen 
WiU'e  permitted  to  wrftc  as  their  several  tem- 
pers, understandiujjs,  and  habits  of  life  direct- 
ed ;  and  that  the  knowledjje  communicated  to 
tluim  by  inspiration  on  the  subject  of  their 
writinjjs  was  applied  in  the  same  nnuiner  as 
any  knowledge  ac(iuired  by  ordinary  nu'ans. 
JVor  is  it  to  be  supposed  that  they  were  thus  in- 
spired in  every  fart  ichich  they  related,  or  in 
every  precept  which  they  delivered.'" 


One  would  think  that  such  an  opinion  from 
a  nutred  head  and  learned  theologian  would 
liavo  a  great  tendency  to  "  unsettle  "  the  (pieB- 
tion  of  scriptural  iusiiiration  and  to  "shake 
the  foundatirm  of  faith." 

Another  bishoi> — Hinds  of  Norwich— savs  : 

"  It  is  not,  therefore,  truths  of  all  kinds  wh'ich 
the  Bible  is  inspired  to  teach,  but  only  such 
truth  as  tends  to  religious  edification  ;  and  the 
Bil)le  is  consequently  infalllbh;  as  far  as  re- 
gards this,  and  this  alone."  Tliis  is  anoUier 
blow  against  plenary  inspiration,  and  leaves  us 
completoly  in  doubt  as  to  whether  the  account 
of  th(!  creation  of  the  world,  or  scriptural  his- 
tory, be  true  or  falst;. 

Bishop  Mamden,  of  Hereford,  says  : 

"  So  independent  is  the  science  of  ethics  of 
the  sujiport  and  ennobling  which  it  receives 
from  religion  that  it  would  be  nothing  strange 
or  object ionable  in  a  revelation  W(;n!  we  to  find 
embodied  in  its  language  much  of  the  fetlse 
ethinil  philosophy  which  systems  nuiy  have  es- 
tablished !"  Archbishop  Vvhately  favors  this 
view  in  the  following  passage : 

"  In  matters  unconnected,  indeed,  with  reli- 
gion, such  as  points  of  history  or  natural  jdit- 
losophy,  a  writer  who  professes  (as  tlitj  apostles 
do)  to  be  communicating  a  divine  revelation 
imparted  to  him,  through  the  means  ofn^ira- 
cle,  may  be  as  liable  to  error  as  other  men, 
without  any  disparagement  to  his  preten- 
sion !" 

Lt!  Clerc,  a  great  Christian'  writer,  in  his 
(liHiiuipition  upon  inspiration,  remarks:  "It 
nuiy  be  said  that  the  books  in  the  Jewish 
canon  ought  to  be  ncknowledgt^d  as  divinely 
inspired,  rather  than  the  Apocrypha,  that 
were  never  in  it.  I  answer,  first,  that  no 
cb'ar  reason  is  brought  to  convince  us  that 
tliose  who  nuidc  the  canon,  or  catalogue  of 
their  books,  were  infallible,  or  had  any  inspir- 
ation whereby  to  distinguish  inspired  books 
from  those  which  were  not  inspired." 

And  the  great  Neander  writes,  "  It  must  be 
regarded  as  one  of  the  greatest  boons  which 
the  i)urifying  process  of  Protestant  theology 
in  (lermany  lias  conferred  on  the  faith,  as  well 
as  science,  tliat  the  old  mechanical  view  of  in- 
spirationliasbeen  so genendly  abandoned .^" 

Among  other  prominent  oi'thodox  writers, 
Arnold,  Coleridge,  Kingsley,  Morell,  Maurice, 
and  Macnaught  are  clergymen  who  sustain 
the  sanu^  views. 

A  large  number  of  the  orthodox,  however, 
are  shocked  at  these  opinions;  and  one,  the 
Bev.  "^Ir.  Noble,  in  supporting  plenary  inspir- 
ation, asks  : 

"  Now,  how  do  the  free  thinkers  receive 
these  concessions  so  liberally  made  V  The 
advocates  of  revelation  may  be  regarded  as 
saying  to  them,  '  See !  we  have  come  half 
way  to  meet  you  ;  surely,  you  will  not  obsti- 
nately refuse  belief,  now  that  we  require  you 
to  believe  so  little.'  What  does  the  free- 
thinker answer  V  He  says,  '  You  are  admit- 
ting, as  fast  as  you  can,  that  we  are  in  the 
right.  If  you,  who  view  the  subject  through 
the  preju(';c<'s  of  your  pro^'ession,  are  con- 
strained to  give  up  half  of  what  we  demand, 
unbiassed  persons  will  augur  from  the  ad- 
mission that  truth  would  require  a  surrender 
of  the  tchole.' "    The  reverend  gentleman  then 


102 


EXETER    HALL. 


oxdaima,  "  No,  my  friends  nnil  brctlircn.  II»^ 
wlio  would  ertbctimlly  d»"f»'ntl  tlu?  C'liristinn 
faith  must  take  liin  stniul  on  hi^'luT  ground 
ilian  tills.  What!  tell  thu  world  that  to  es- 
cajK'  tho  incivahin^j  inllutMico  «)f  lutidclity 
they  must  surrender  the  plenary  Insjiiration 
of  the  Scriptures!  As  well  nii<rht  we  tell 
them  that  to  obtain  security  when  a  Hood  is 
risinjj  they  should  <iuit  the  toj)  of  a  moun- 
tain to  take  refuffo  In  a  cave  at  its_  base. 

"  AfBuredly  this  is  a  state  of  things  calcu- 
lated to  fill  the  breast  of  the  sincere  and  hum- 
bleChristian  with  jirofouud  concern  if  not  with' 
deep  alarm.  On  the  one  hand,  he  beholds 
divine  revelation  assaulted  with  unp.recedented 
fury  and  snbtletj  by  those  who  av»w  them- 
selves its  enemies  ;  on  the  other,  hi;  sees  it  half 
betrayed  and  deseiled  by  those  who  rerjard 
them.selves  as  its  friends.  Every  devout  be- 
liever in  revelation  teels  an  inward  predilec- 
tion for  tho  opinion  that  the  insfiiration  of 
a  divinely  communicated  writin^f  must  be 
l)lenary  and  absolute.  lie  feeds  fjreat  juiin  on 
beinp  told  that  this  is  a  mistaken  notion  ;  that 
he  must  surrender  many  thinpfs  in  the  sacred 
writing,  to  tlie  enemy  to  retain  any  chance 
of  preserving  the  rest ;  that  he  must  believe; 
tlu'  writers  of  tlu'  Scriptures  to  have  been 
liable  to  error,  as  a  preliminary  to  his  assur- 
ance that  the  relif^ion  of  the  Scriptures  is  true. 
Surely,  every  one  whose  lieart  does  not  take 
part  with  tlie  assailant  of  his  faith  must  be 
jrlad  to  be  refieved  from  the  necessity  of 
nuikinf?  surrenders  so  fatal." 

If  men  trained  to  theolojry  and  "called"  to 
preach  theUospel  can  so  disiaite  amonj;  them- 
selves conc(!ruinpf  the  full  or  the  partial  inspi- 
ration of  the  Christian  Scriptures — a  very  es 
sential  matter — how  are  "  poor  peasants  and 
simple  women"  to  decide  the  question  ? 
Either  they  must  blindly  believe — as.  indeed, 
many  do— all  that  is  recorded  in  "  divine  rev- 
elation" about  the  creation  of  the  world,  the 
flood,  and  the  other  stranjjo  events,  or  else 
doubt  the  whole.  It  is  positive  stupidity  to 
follow  ])riestly  "  blind  jjuides,"  who  are  them- 
selves merely  j?ro])ing  in  the  dark,  not  only 
on  the  question  of  inspiration,  but  on  other 
points  of  equal  importance  ;  and  it  is  a  delu- 
sion to  countenance  any  longer  that  broad 
farce  of  "  infallibility,"  which  presumptuous 
teachers  still  set  up  for  their  respective 
churches.  With  all  the  glaring  defects  of 
their  religious  systiMn,  these  men  periodically 
attend  ftt  Exeter  Hall,  and  unblushingly  de- 
mand more  money  to  continue  the  circulation 
of  a  so-called  revelation,  as  being  "  truth 
without  a  mixture  of  error,"  but  which  "  sci- 
ence, art,  and  history"  have  proved  false,  and 
which  has  been  already  rejected  as  spurious 
by  a  vast  number  of  the  thoughtful  and  intel- 
ligent in  every  part  of  the  world. 

As  an  evidence  of  public  opinion  on  this 
subject,  about  the  time  the  great  Bible  Society 
meeting  took  place,  the  London  Morning  Mail 
published  the  following  remarks : 

"  The  May  meetings  of  Exeter  Hall  are  now 
in  full  blast.  Sanctimonious  pride  walks  the 
stage,  and  blatant  hypocrisy  invokes  the  sym- 
pathy and  material  aid  of  as.  inbled  thou- 
eands  for  objects  impossible  of  accom])lish- 
mcnt,    Under  pretense  of  forwai-ding  these 


objects,  a  host  of  Becrotaries  rp]ilenish  tholr 
purses,  and  missionanes,  ministers,  and  ngt'uts 
of  all  sorts  draw  fat  and  easy  salaries.  From 
real  misery  at  their  very  doors,  these  men  turn 
rway,  and  fix  their  gaze  on  olijects  ju'rlectly 
ideal.  As  to  so-called  missionary  operations 
in  other  countries,  experience  luis  shown  how 
little  dependence  is  to  be  placed  on  the  repre- 
sentations made  by  saintly  secretaries,  and  by 
the  ]>ious  movi-rs  and  see-onders  of  resolutions 
who  figure  on  these  occasions.  Missionaries 
are  not  content  nu'rely  to  thrive  upon  the  cre- 
dulity a  porticm  of  the  British  public  ailbrd 
them.  In  New-Zealand,  as  we  know,  they 
have  been  the  great  instigators  of  the  Maori 
insurrection;  in  connection  with  the  Chinese 
rebels,  they  have  i)layed  a  i)art  by  no  means 
creditable,  and  have  sought  to  mislead  ])ublic 
ojiinion  as  to  the  objects  had  in  view  by  those 
murdereisand  cut  tlimats called  theTaepings. 
As  to  tho  home  objects  represented  by  the  Ex- 
eter Hall  fanatics,  we  would  only  be  too  glad 
to  point  to  any  results  i)roi)ortionate  to  the 
amount  of  money  placed  at  their  disposal.  It 
is  humiliating  to  see  such  a  superabundance 
of  false  sentimentality  in  the  comnumity — 
such  readiness  on  the  i)art  of  thousands  to  be- 
come; the  dupes  of  designing  men.  As  long 
as  a  set  of  benighted  spinsters  can  be  found  to 
contribute  to  the  sui)port  of  these  vagrant 
Sjjurgeons,  so  long  must  the  Exeter  Hall  gath- 
erings prosper.  They  enjoy  a  certain  amount 
of  excitement,  and  pay  the  price.  We  should 
be  glad,  indeed,  could  we  disabuse  them  of  the 
idea  that  Exeter  Hall  is  the  straight  road  to 
heaven." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ALTiiorGn  ihe  meeting  in  the  regular  Bap- 
tist church  failed  to  appoint  a  delegate  to  the 
great  Bible  Society  anniversary  at  Exeter 
Hall,  yet,  as  has  been  noticed,  it  did  not  deter 
the  rival  heads  of  the  antagonistic  sects  from 
making  their, appearance  on  that  occasion; 
and  it  singularly  happened  that,  from  the  unu- 
sual crowd  of  clergy  and  foreigners,  the  mod- 
erator, Dr.  Buster,  was  forced  to  take  a  chair 
between  his  reverend  opponents,  James  Baker 
and  Jonah  Hall.  This  was  ratlier  a  trying 
position  ;  there  could  be  no  friendly  side  whis- 
pers between  them  as  among  others.  Within 
two  inches  of  his  right  elbow,  his  Methodistic 
friend  Baker  sat  rigid  aiid  stern  ;  while  equal- 
ly close,  on  the  other  side,  the  liiimorous  J<mah 
seemed  to  enjoy  his  proximity  to  so  much 
greatness:  and  though  ho  tried  hard  to  as- 
sume the  conventional  gravity  of  "  tlu;  cloth, 
yet  occasionally  his  eyes  would  turn  obliquel" 
on  the  portly  form  of  the  moderator,  and  y 
faint  smile  would  appear  as  he  thought  of  his 
late  discomfiture. 

The  doctor,  indeed,  could  have  wished  him- 
self any  where  else  ;  he  looked  crest-fallen,  and 
it  was  to  him  a  particular  trial  of  human  na- 
ture t(-  wear  that  lamb-like  expressitm  so  re- 
quisite under  the  converging  gaze  of  Christian 
eyes  from  all  quarters  of  the  great  building. 
He  felt  greatly  mortified,  especially  as  he  knew 
that  a  crowd  of  admiring  friends  and  many 
devoted   ladies  wished  to  hear  his  sonorous 


EXETER    HALL. 


108 


lisli  tlioir 

11(1  n<r<'nt8 

H.     From 

iiu-n  turn 

IK'rl'cctly 

ilM'rntionH 

own  how 

lu!  n-prc- 

t*,  aii(l  by 

I'soliitionH 

ssionarii'H 

n  lilt'  rrc- 

ilic  alliird 

low,  tlit'y 

tlio  Maori 

t^  C'liini'se 

no  means 

ad  jjublic 

f  by  tliosf; 

Tacpinjia. 

)y  tlu>  Kx- 

too  {xlail 
ito  to  the 
l)osal.  It 
bnndance 
imnnity — 
inds  to  bo- 

As  hmfj 
le  found  to 

vajjrant 
Hall  jrath- 
in  amount 
Ac;  shouhl 
lem  of  the 
ht  road  to 


volco  on  behalf  of  tho  Bibh* ;  but  the  mean  '  stretched  hirt  h\'',y  lenjjth   arrnsa  the  sunlit 


Tular  Bap- 
rate  to  the 
at  Exeter 
I  not  deter 
sects  from 

occasion  ; 
n  the  unii- 
1,  the  mod- 
ke  a  chair 
nies  Baker 

a  trying 

side  wliis- 
I.  AVitliin 
fethodistic 
\\\\i?  cqual- 
■ous  Jonali 
I  so  much 
ard  to  as- 
the  cloth, 

obliquel" 
tor,  and  y 
ight  of  his 

ished  hini- 
fallen,and 
iiuman  na- 
si on  BO  re- 
'  Christian 
building. 
»8  he  knew 
and  many 
B  sonox'ous 


jealousy  of  the  vt^y  men  i)etweeii  whom  h< 
was  now  placed  prevenKi  I  the  delivery  of  the 
(;lo(luent  HpetH-h  which  he  had  |>repari;d  witii 
such  labor,  and  hail  saved  infidelity  from  tlie 
•.vitheriu^  rebuke  which  In-  felt  himsi-if  able 
to  uive,  and  which  might  have  exalttut  him  iu 
tlie  opinion  of  the  foreign  (h'pututions(»f  trui? 
luflievers.  Vet,  were  then;  no  sinh  jealousy, 
were  that  obstacle  to  his  usetnlne^^s  removed, 


doorway,  and  Wdliam,  who  was  more  delicate 
that!  ever,  laid  his  liead  in  Hannah's  lap,  and 
looked  (ij)  through  the  lattieiswopk  at  the 
bright  blue  sky,  and  watched  the  Hitting 
clou<ls  as  tiiey  passed  along;  while  she,  with 
iiiciotonous  voice,  reiul,  for  their  muttuil  editi- 
'■ation,  jtassages  from  lu^r  treasured  little  IxMik, 
tie  I'llijriiit'n  I'rof/nsM.  Now  and  tlien,  as 
some  particular  part  coiieerning  Christian  or 


and  were  he  even  surnMuided  on  that  iilatform    Evangtilist,  or  soincr  other  of  the  many  churac- 


i»y  such  trusty  nud<!  and  female  sHints  as  usu- 
ally greeteil  him  in  tlu!  pleusanl  iPiulor  of  his 
subordinate,  the  Uev.  Alexander  (.'iim|ibill— it  | 
would  not  avail.     lie  could  not  cummand  ai 
word   or    arrange    an    iih^a   on   any    subject ' 
whil(!  then!  was  one  man  unexpe.-tedly  present 
who  he  lielieved  could  guess  at  iiis  thougiits. 
who  knew  sonu'thingof  his  motives,  and  who 
might  have  witnessed  an  act  which  an  enemy  j 
ould  turn  greatly  to  his  disudvuntage.     That ! 


ters  depicted  in  that  jxtpular  similitude  ne(;d(d 
explanation,  and  whiit;  still  looking  up.  he 
would  ask  Hannah  ;  and  often  aft(;r  she  had 
tried  to  unriddle  the  mystery,  slm  would  leave 
it  more  unintelligible  than  ever,  i^he  seemed, 
as  usual,  to  be  woiulerfully  interested  in  the  re- 
hi'ursal  of  the  mirrative;  sIk^  must  have  rtnid 
it  over  and  over  Jiiuri!  than  twenty  times.  a:id 
he  would  be  a  fool  indeed  who  could  seek  to 
rob  her — simph;  soul — of  the   i)leas:int  emo- 


man  he  feared  and  hated,  and  were  il  possil)le  tioiis  which  its  ])enisal  atforded  by  trying  to 
to  havt!  annihilated  him  with  a  scowl,  the  rev- j  convince  her  that  it  had  no  reality.  There 
erend  doctor  would  have  done  so.  j  are  certain  minds  more  jth-ased  with  the  sha- 

Almost  immediately  in  front  of  the  jjlatform,  I  (low  of  mystery  than  with  the  broad  light  of 
Martin  Mannoivs,  and  his  wile,  and  daughter    naked  fact 
were  seateil.  Mr.  ( 'apel  and  Samuel  Styles  were 


al.so  ])re3('nt.  Mr.  Maniun'S  seemed  in  a  com- 
placent study  of  thediiferent  faces  Ix'fore  him, 
and  no  one  listened  with  greater  attenti(»ii  to 
the  several  sptundies  delivered  on  the  occasion. 
But  when  his  look  happened  to  rest  for  a  mo- 
ment on  the  moderator's  face,  that  dignitary 
a!)p;'artHl  to  be  atl'ected  with  a  nervous  tsvitch- 
ing  of  the  right  eye,  which  caused  him  repi^at- 
edly  to  adjust  his  gold  mounted  glass  as  if 
merely  desirous  of  scanning  the  vast  a.ssembly. 
His  situation  was  evidently  very  unpleasant, 
yet  the  doctor  sustained  the  i)art  he  was  forced 
to  a::t;  and,  on  the  evening  of  that  day,  when 
again  in  the  liou.s(!  of  his  friend,  the  pastor  of 
St.  Andrews,  the  moderator  once  more  wore 
the  saintly  smile  of  a  martyr.  lie  expressed 
tlie  satisfaction  Ik*  had  felt  in  having  bticn  jxt- 


Al'ter  a  long  jiause  in  his  in(]uiries,  during 
which  William  seemed  to  have  b(.'"n  specula- 
ting on  the  height  of  the  clouds  or  the  depth 
of  the  blue  sky,  he  suddenly  asked: 

"  Hannah,  why  does  ma  pray — why  do  you 
liray  'i" 

Sh(^  raised  her  eyes  from  the  l)ook,  and,  look- 
ing down  at  his  pale  face,  said  :  "  i'ray '!  Why, 
(Jod  tells  us  to  pray,  we  must  ])ray  for  what 
W(!  want :  we  can't  get  to  heaven  unless  we 
do  so.     Wicked  pi^ople  never  pray." 

"Nev((r?  Then  wcm't  God  give  ns  what 
we  want,  or  let  us  go  i  >  heaven  unless  we 
pray  Y" 

"  Xo;  never.  We  must  all  pray — all,  every 
on(\" 

William  thought  awhile,  and  then  said: 
"  ^7hy  doesn't  pa  pray — he  never  i)rays.     Is 


raitted  to  take  even  a  secondary  j)art  at  the    ho  wicked,  and  won't  Ik'  go  to  heaven '!" 


Hannah  hesitated  for  a  time,  and  then  re- 
plied,  "  Oh !  your  pa  will  so(m  irniy,  (lod 
will  make  him  do  so  ;  he  will,  and  then,  when 
you  die  you'll  S(!e  him  with  ma  in  heaven." 

"Will  P(jp  be  there,  too  V" 

"  Y(;s,  Miss  Mary  will  be  up  there  with  the 
angels." 

Why  doesn't  God  make  every  one  pray, 


groat  meeting;  it  was  the  part  he  most  admir- 
ed. To  sit  at  the  feet  of  the  eminent  Christians 
who  had  spoken,  and  to  hear  and  U-arn  from 
them  was  most  in  accordance  witli  his  own 
foldings  ;  and  as  he  lisiu'd  Ciospel  promises  to 
the  pious  sisters  who  were  present,  he  rublied 
his  hands  in  ecstasy  and  blessed  the  liord  for 

what  had  been  done  that  day  in  Kxeter  Hall  i  -^    

for  the  filrthc-T  spread  of  the  "glorious  Gos- j  why  didn't  he  make  every  body  good'^" 
pel."  I      "Oh!    well,"    said   Hannah,  pausing,  and 

While  Mr.  Mannors  and  his  friends  were    somewhat  perplexed,  "  I  don't  know — I  don't, 
listening  to  the  in-cmiinent  and  distinguish(;d  |  indeed." 

expounders  of  the  Bible  at  the  great  meeting,  |      "If  pa  doesn't  pray,   then  he  won't  go  to 
Hannah  and  William  remained  at  home  ;  ancl    heaven '!" 
after  she  had  bustled  through  her  morning's  i      "  No."' 
work,  and  put  things  in  order  all  through  the  |      "  Nor  Pop  ?" 
house,  she  and  William — and  John  Bunyan  of  ,      "  Xor  any  body  ?" 

oursv! — retiredfnmithebusyouter  world, and,        "Then  I  won't  die — I  d(m't  want  to  goto 
like  humble  pilgrims,  to(jk  refuge  in  thi^sum-    heaven  !" 

mer-house.  There,  surrounded  with  young,  "  Oh !  dear  child,"  said  she  tenderly,  "  don't 
aspiring  vines  and  tender  creeping  plants,  say  that ;  'twould  be  very,  very  wicked  not  tc 
they  sat,  side  by  side,  on  a  low  seat.  The  wish  to  go  to  heaven.  VVliat  would  your  ma 
young  llowtu's  in  the  jileasant  garden  bent 
gently  as  the  fragrant  air  passed  through  their 
blushing  petals,  and  the  dull  sound  of  busy 
life  fnmi  the  city  reacdied  tlia  ear  like  tho 
lulling    flow    of  distant    Avatcrs.     Flounce 


say  V '  • 

But  WilliKin  lieedtul  not ;  he  was  again 
busy  watching  the  clouds,  or  looking  for  some 
oi)ening  in  the  sky  to  peer  right  into  paradise. 
In  a  short  time  he  again  asked : 


^mm 


104 


EXETER  HALL. 


"  Is  every  body  in  heaven  jffood  ;  do  no  wick- 
ed or  bad  peoplo  ever  get  there?" 

"  Iiiipo93ible !"  said  Hannah,  astonished, 
"  impossible !  God  lives  in  heaven,  that's  his 
homo,  and  all  his  bright  and  holy  angels  are 
up  thtjre  with  him.  All  tl. .  saints,  and  all  the 
rnaityrs  and  poor  pilgrims,  and  all  tin  holy 
people  that  ever  died  are  in  heaven  with  God  ; 
your  ma,  and  yoii,  and  I  will  bo  there  und  I 
hope  your  pa,  and  Miss  Mary,  and  a  ^reat 
many  otliers ;"  and  then,  raising  her  oxtonded 
hands  and  looking  fervently  upward  with  a 
brig)it  smile,  she  continued :  "  Oli !  yes,  up,  up 
on  high  with  dod,  forever,  and  ever,  and 
ever." 

An  expression  of  solemnity  rested  upon  the 
boy's  face  as  ho  stil'  'nquired  :  "  Arc  you  sure 
that  no  bad  pen])  i;ver  got  into  heaven  or 
ever  lived  there,  Hannah?" 

"  Oil !  nothing  sinful  or  wicked  can  be 
where  God  is — notliing!  impossible!  every 
thing  in  heaven  is  so  good  and  hapi^y." 

"But  ma  says  that  God  is  ev  ."where; 
that  he  is  on  this  earth,  which  she  says  is  so 
verv  wicked,  and  tliat  we  are  very  wicked 
too.*" 

"Oh!  yes,"  followed  Hannah  somewhat  ab- 
stractedly ,  "  yes,  we're  very,  very  wicked 
indeed. ' 

"  And  then,"  continued  William,  "  how 
did  Satan  and  all  his  wicked  angels  get  into 
lu'aven?  Ma  told  me  that  they  once  Jived 
there  with  God,  and  that  they  got  very 
wicked,  and  that  there  was  a  war  in  heaven, 
and  tliat  God  sent  Michatl  and  his  angds 
to  fight  with  them,  and  then  that  God  cast 
Saian  and  his  angels  down  out  of  heaven. 
Didn't  these  wicked  iingi  Is  <mce  live  hi 
heaven,  and  wasn't  there  fighting  up  there, 
too?" 

Hruinah  now  looked  more  confounded  than 
ever;  she  laid  her  book  asi^ile  and  r'-nuiiucd 
tliouglitful  for  a  time,  while  the  boy's  large, 
in(iuirin;f  eyes  were  still  fixed  ujion  hers. 

"  Well,  dear  child,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know 
how  these  wicked  ones  got  into  heaven  ;  they 
were  there  i  su[>pose,  for  the.  13ilih?  says  so. 
'Tis  a  mystery  we  can't  understand,  but  it  will 
be  all  made  plain  to  us  some  day." 

With  this  comfortable  assurance,  she  re- 
sumed her  book,  but  not  to  read ;  she 
looked  over  a  fi-.v  ])ages  here  and  there,  tlun 
closed  it  again,  and  coiumenced,  in  a  soft,  low 
voice,  to  sing  ouo  of  her  favorite  hymns — 

"  TIu  re  is  a  liind  of  pure  dolitrlit, 
WlieiT  faints  iniiiiorliil  rcisu; 
Inflniij  day  exiiudes  tlm  nij;lit, 
And  j)lea!-uros  banish  puiu. 

"  Tliero  pvcrlai^tins;  f^prinu:  abides, 
And  novor-witliorin;;  I1o\v(M's  ; 
Death,  liko  a  narrow  sea.  divides 
T  JiB  hcuvenly  land  I'roiu  ours." 

She  had  scarcely  finished  the  second  verse;, 
before  Willisim's  weary  lids  began  to  close, 
and  as  the  last  words  ho  henrd  distiiu'tlv  were 
nliout  the  "  heavenly  land,"  he  wei\t  away 
there  in  his  nud-day  dream — t'xvn  Flounce 
followed  him.  There  was  soft,  lieavenly  mu- 
sic, and  he  wandered  about  tliose  "sweet 
fields"  with  his  fatlusr  and  mother,  and  Mary 
aud  Hannah,  And  hutold  them  how  blissful  he 


felt  to  have  them  with  him  at  last,  and  that 
they  should  nev(!r,  never  go  back  to  earth, 
never  more  be  wicked,  nor  ever  part  again. 

While  William  thus  slept,  Hannah,  poor 
kind  creature,  tri«l  not  to  disturb  Ids  quiet 
slunjbers.     ShcAvatched  the  ]mle  aivd  v/earied 
features  of  the  slee[)ing  boy,  like  some  hover- 
ing, compassionate  angel — yet  only  an  angel 
of    the    earth — and    for    nearly    two    lioui-s 
,  longer    she    felt    almost    ])erfect    ]ia])i'iness, 
.while  softly  singing  hjnin  after  hymn,  and 
'  verse  after  verse,  in  her  own  simide  way,  and 
I  comforting  herself  with  delightful  thoughts 
of  the  i)ilgrim'8  land,  of  which  her  anticipa- 
tions led  her  to  think  that 

"  Xo  chillinz  winds  nor  poisonous  breath, 
Can  reach  that  healthlul  shore; 
Sickness  and  sorrow,  pain  and  death, 
Are  felt  and  feared  no  more." 

She  ceased  at  last,  and,  as  she  closed,  her 
voice  died  away  with  tlio  sound  of  the  eve- 
ning bells  from  the  distant  city. 

"  Why,  Hannah,  my  goodness !  how  still  you 
keel),"  said  Mrs.  Mannors  looking  into  the  door- 
way; she  had  stepped  lightly  along  the  garden 
walk  and  gave  her  maid  such  a  pleasant  eur- 
I  prise.     "  And  is  my  jwor  bo^  sleeping  ?"  said 
I  she,  stooping  and   tenderly  kissing   his  fore- 
I  head.     And     then,  looking    att'ectionately  at 
I  Hannah,  who  had  watched  over  his  slumbers, 
cried,  "O   you  good,  kind,  loving   Hannah! 
,  (iod  bless  your  tendiT  heart !  what  should  we 
j  do  wiihoiit  you  ?  Wake  up,  my  dear,"  said  she, 
j  gently  taking  William's  liand,  "  wake  up,  un- 
,  til  1  tell  ^'ou  all  about  what  we  s?w  today  in 
i  the  city." 

"  O   ma !"   said   Williatn,   stretching    him- 
'  self,  "  I  have  had  such  a  nice  dream,  1, never 
wanted  to  wake   aualn  ;   but  wliere's   Pop?" 
I  said  he,  lof)king  around. 

"  Here  1  am,  you  lazy  fellow,"  said  .^lary,  gli- 

1  ding  ill  with  the  sunlight.     "  Have  you  been 

I  sleeping  all  the  time  we  were  away  ?"     She 

I  seated  herself  by  his  side,  and  ran  her  fingers 

through  his  brown  silken  hair. 

j      "  Imteed,  ho  has  not,"  said  Hannah  ;  "  we 

j  have  had  such  a  hmg  talli  about  many  things 

—things  that  you  should  talk  about  sonmtimes, 

I  Miss  Mary  ;  and  then,  when  he  grew  tired,  he 

sleiit  a  little,  Avhile  I  cang." 

"  I'm  sure  you  were  very  happy  ;  of  c>  e 
you  were."  said  Mrs.  Mannors;  "the  i..ord 
was  with  you.  I  left  you  under  his  ])rotecting 
carc!  during  my  absence.  And  then  wo  liad 
such  a  glorious  time  in  Exeter  Hall — such  a 
crowd  of  jieojile  ;  such  a  number  of  ministers 
and  jiious  foreigners.  The  work  of  the  Lord 
has  surely  prospered  this  day — I  know  it. 
Ihit  let  us  go  in.  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
ilw  meeting  after  tea." 

Mary  and  \N'illiam,  followed  l)y  Flounce,  led 
the  way  to  the  house,  while  Mrs.  Mannors 
and  her  faithful  maid  walked  slowly  after, 
talking  about  the  great  sums  which  had  been 
poured  that  day  into  the  treasurj-  of  the  Lord. 
Mr.  Mannors  eturned  xciy  much  ]ileased 
that  he  had  .itf(^nde<l  the  great  Bible  nu-eting  ; 
he  had  heard  all  that  the  principal  ministers 
of  ditf'crint  sects  had  to  say  ccmci^rning  the 
spread  of  the  Gos[)el  ;  he  had  heard  their  fu- 
tile insinuations  against  skepticism,  and  their 
admission  of  its  growth  nnd    inliueuco   in 


EXETER    HALL. 


105 


hifjh  places,  among  eminent  men — even 
witliin  tlio  "  visible  cliuvch"  itself!  And  lie 
felt  satisliea  that,  tbouj,fli  t\wy  spoke  of  tlie 
present  and  future  with  such  lofty  confidence, 
they  Honietimes  feared  that  the  whole  struc- 
ture of  Christianity  vas  growinj;  more  and 
more  insecure.  Samuel  Styles  did  not  ac- 
company them  to  Hampstea..,  but  went  to  the 
Ued  Lion,  where  he  agreed  to  meet  Mr.  Mau- 
uors  the  next  day. 

Jlr.  C'apt'l,  of  all  others,  seemed  to  he  the 
most  tflssatisfied.  lie,  too,  had  heard  all  the 
trroat  speccIu'S  and  all  the  news  whidi  Mrs. 
Mtiunors  had  emphasized  as  "  jjlorinus  ;"  still 
he  seemed  demure  and  thoufrhtful ;  even  Mr. 
Maunors  f(.'lt  a  share  of  surprise,  aud  once  or 
twice  tried  to  rally  him,  Init  with  liltle  ettect. 
Liitierly,  indeed,  au  wcasioiial  abstraction  was 
oliservable,  but  it  was  of  short  duration  ;  his 
natural  cheerfulness  was  like  a  rainbow  over 
every  cloud;  but  now  the  cloud  was  there, 
and  no  rainbow  could  be  seen,  nor  {glimpse 
of  l.'ue  sky  beyond.  Mrs.  Mannors  also  no- 
tii-  (1  his  unusiuil  <!:ravity,  and,  of  course,  at- 
tributed it  to  religious  emotion.  lie  was,  no 
doubt,  pondering  upon  some  of  the  truths  he 
had  heard  that  day,  and  was  probably  aifected 
concerning  the  state  of  the  perishing  millions 
which  he  had  been  told  were  yet  in  heathen- 
ish darkness — doomed  to  eternal  miseiy. 
Such  a  state  of  nnnd,  she  thought,  was  ail 
Vv  ry  proper  in  a  minister ;  slie  was  rather. 
pleased  than  otherwise  ;  for,  'contrary  to  all 
exiH'Ctation,  she  had  begun  to  thiulv  that  he 
was  not  quite  as  diligent  as  he  might  be ; 
l)iil  lest  slu!  sliould  misjudge  one  of  God's  ser- 
vants, she  only  very  cautiously  mentioned  her 
•loubts  to  one  C(mfiding  heart — to  Hannah 
alone;  and  now  again  she  believed  that,  in 
I'u.uver  to  her  prayers,  tlod  was  aboui  to  man- 
liest himself  and  increase  the  usefulness  of 
one  of  his  human  agents — of  this  she  had  no 
doubt. 

Mr.  Capel  sat  near  the  open  window,  and 
watched   the   lieautiful   sunset,  and  saw  the 
evening  shadows  gather  arouml  the  (lroo])ing 
l!  iwers  ;  the  distant,  motionless  cloud  lookeil 
like  a  nu)untain  (>f  sap])1iire  in  the  waning 
red  light.     How  peacefully  nature  ai)proached 
with   its  season   for  slumbcu',   and    how   he  ; 
t'Hvied  the  cahn  which  seeincvl  to  rest  npon  , 
tli(i  inanimate  world.     But  his  mind,  at  that 
still  hour,  was  like  the  stormy  ocean,  and  his  i 
iii'art  wafl   heavy  in  anticipatiiui  of  the  ap- 
Jiroaclung  tiials  which   he  feared  he  had  to  | 
undergo.     Still   he  had  courage  to  face  any  | 
ordeal  in  a  just  cause  ;  but,  just  or  unjust,  ho  I 
♦'•■II  that  a  trial  of  some  kind  was  unavoidabh;.  ' 
Then,  again,  he  thought  it  might  be  ke()t  ott" 
he  would  try  and  avoid  a  colli>ion  ;  and  then, 
when  he  thought  of  his  position — a  reputed 
preacher  of  tlm   (lospel — he   drew   a  heavy 
sigU,  and  muttered  to  himself,   "  It  is  inevi- 
t;  !ile." 

He  was  now  alone,  and  he  heard  Mrs.  Man- 
nors's  voice  in  an  adjoining  room.  She  was 
busy  giving  a  rtdation  of  all  she  had  seen  and 
heard  that  day  at  Exeter  HalJ ;  she  dwelt 
especially  n]«)n  thi;  many  renuirks  nuule 
a;>ainsi  the  growing  inlichdity  of  the  day,  and 
how  the  "  word  of  (iod"  was  to  triumph 
over  every  adversary.     But  to  him  who  went 


'.  there  too  in  search  of  hope,  how  different  was 
the   feeling!      In   suitport  of  the   Eiblo,  he 
;  was  treated  to  a  ndiash  of  flippant  assertions 
I  and  a  round  of  the  usual  orthodox  assump- 
;  tlons.     The   clerical   defenders  of  revelation 
I  did  not  attempt  to  establish  scriptural  truth 
■  on  tlm  basis  of  n  ason  or  science,  but  more  as 
I  the  result  of  faith  evidenced  in  the  feelings 
I  aud  atl'eetions  of  "])oor  jteasants  and  simple 
\  wonievi ;"  while  science,  art,  history,  and  arith- 
metic were  i'rowned  upon  as  the  trusty  allies 
of  skepticism.  ■ 

"  Vou  have  become  more  serious  since  your 
visit  to  Exeter  Hall,"'  said  ]SIr.  Mannors 
kindly,  as  he  i)laced  his  chair  near  him.  "  You 
are  nor,  I  ])resmne,  entirely  satislied  with  all 
you  heard  on  the  occasion." 

"  To  be  candid,  I  am  not." 

"  Wfll,  I  can  not  say  that  I  feel  disappointed. 
Of  course,  we  coul  I  not  expi'Ct  to  hear  a 
learned  defense  of  tin*  Scrii>tures  at  such  a 
tinu! ;  but  one  would  think  that  wc!  should 
liave  heard  better  reasons  tor  a  contimuition 
of  the  heavy,  voluntary  tax  on  the  pockets  of 
belicivers.  (.'irculate  the  Scri))tures,  is  the 
great  cry  at  Exeter  Hall ;  but  the  speakers  en- 
tirely failed  to  prove  that  that  circidation  had 
r-.'sulted  in  any  permanent  benelit,  so  lar, 
fidu'r  to  .lew  or  heathen,  or  even  to  the  na- 
tions so  long  nnder  its  inlluence.  The  luiests 
alone  arc'  the  great  gainers.  It  mi^ht  not  be 
too  much  to  assert  that  the  united  incomes 
and  salaries  of  the  state  bishops,  aud  ju'lests, 
and  other  clergymen  f)n  the  plat  form  to-day, 
would  be  more  than  sullicient  to  rid  one  of  our 
most  populous  parishes  of  the  ^vant  and  near- 
ly actual  famine  which  drives  so  numy  to 
crime.  Xo  other  class  who  ])rofi'ss  to  labor 
do  so  little  or  get  so  much  as  the  priests  of 
Christendom  at  the  present  day.  No  v.dndcr 
that  their  united  aim  is  against  skepticism, 
which  is  so  vigorously  denouncing  their  pie- 
t(>nsions.  Let  ClMstianity  ]n'evail  again  as  it 
did  once  in  Europe,  and  once  lucn-e  we  should 
have  gloomy  fanatics,  intohu-ance,  and  an  in- 
quisition ;  then,  alas!  for  human  progress  or 
liberty.  We  should  again  hawi  bigoteil  Puri- 
tans, and  m(Mi  like  Docter  Buster  lording  it  in 
a  Star  Chamber  ;  and  a  tribe  of  bishojjs  as 
greedy  as  Winchester,  who,  whih>  advocating 
the  spr(>ad  of  the  (h)S[)el,  would  tax  the  poor 
num's  bread  to  increase  benefices  and  to  double 
<u-  treble  their  i)res<'nt  exorbitant  incomes; 
ami  again  we  should  have  reenactments  for  the 
enrorcemen.,  of  test-oaths  and  religious  penal- 
ties." 

"  Then  am  I  to  be  one  of  that  class  you  re- 
proach '.'  Shall  I  remain  as  I  am,  and  be  consid- 
ered the  ally  of  such  men  as  Doctor  BustcT 
aud  the  bishop  of  Wiuchesti'r — even  a  co- 
worker with  James  BakerV"  Mr.  Capel  was 
still  looking  out  at  the  flowers,  and  a  shadow 
had  already  overspn-ad  his  face. 

"  Yes,  if  you  think  you're  right ;  if  not ,  leave 
the  narro'A  track  in  which  you  have*  been 
treading,  an  I  move  out  boldly  upon  the  great 
highway  of  orc^gress.  Be  fu'i; !"  Mr.  Man- 
nors spoke  Av'th  uiiiisual  energy,  and  when 
Mr.  Capel  turned  to  reply,  he  saw  that  emo- 
tional glow,  the  emblem  of  sincerity,  resting 
upon  his  tjeatures. 

"  1  may  have  been  on  that  highway  for 


106 


EXETER  HALL. 


1 

IS 

^ 

fe'i 

1^ 

8 

s^ 

i'v 

mm 

•M 

Ml  i'^ 

P 

i 

Ki 

i 

H 

1  '-^. 


Bome  timo ;  I  hp,ve  ventured  out  stealthily,  like 
oue  afraid  to  meet  a  traveler — ufrnid  to  ask 
whether  I  was  on  the  ri]trht  road.  I  know  not 
where  1  am  now.  You  asked  me  to  investi- 
gate, and,  when  I  commenced,  I  left  the  beaten 
track  in  which  I  had  so  lon^  paced  backward 
and  forward  without  makiuff  an  advance. 
Yes,  I  have  read  and  re-read  the  books  which 
you  mentioned,  and  have  read  others  for  and 
ayainst  the  creed  which  I  was  traine<l  I'roi ' 
infancy  to  bel'eve  as  truth  ;  now  I  am  likt-  one 
confused,  like  one  blinded  by  the  dust  whirli 
he  has  raised  about  him — uncertain  which 
way  to  move.  1  have  ^one  back  for  aid  to 
Pafey,  and  to  Butler,  and  to  others,  but  to  re- 
turn more  (lisai)i)ointed  than  ever.  I  have 
searched  the  most  learned  exjiositions  without 
avail ;  and  to-dny  i  attended  at  Exeti'r  Hall, 
f'lly  to  be  mortified  at  the  jiretensions  and 
seif-sutlicicncy  of  the  very  class  to  whom  1  am 
BU])]K)sevi  to  belonjj.  I  am  luirborinfj  terrible 
doubts,  and  am  therefore  in  a  false  position." 
"  And  yet  how  much  bi;tter  than  to  be  like 
an  owl  at  twilijfht,  content  to  hoot  and  flap 
within  the  ivied  ruins  of  a  church  tower. 
You  have  dared  to  doubt ;  that  is  a  step  to- 
ward freedom ;  even  one  pace  outside  the 
charmed  circle  of  theolofry.  Doubt  is  but  the 
dawniny;  of  truth.  lie  n(.t  afraid  to  advance  ; 
walk  oat  into  the  broad  hijji'hway  ;  look  up  at 
the  lijiht.  and  then  go  on  ;  for  progress  may 
be  eternal." 

"  One  step  outside  that  circle  would  make 
me  an  apostate,  to  be  laden  with  reproach. 
Apostasy  is  but  infamy  in  the  eyes  of  the 
faithful ;  even  once  made  a  crime,  to  be  ])m\- 
ished  with  ileath.  That  jienally  can  not  now 
be  exacted,  but  the  ostracism  of  religion  will 
remain.  I  can  not  avoid  my  doubts,  but  I  : 
dread  the  ordeal  which  may  follow."  | 

"  Take  coiu'agt! ;  hav<!  freedom  at  any  price.  ' 
Mental  slavery  is  the  most  degrading.  If  in  ' 
bursting  your  fetters  you  should  receive  a  ■ 
wound,  time  will  heal  it ;  and  though  bigotry  , 
may  point  to  the  scar  as  a  mark  of  degrada-  ' 
tion,  it  will  Ik!  to  yourself  and  to  the  pro- ' 
gressive  a  pruud  mark  obtained  in  the  cause  ! 
of  true  liberty."  ! 

It  was  late  that  night  before  these  friends  ! 
retired ;  but  had  Mrs.  Manners  stood  by  and  ! 
heard  all  they  had  said,  she  woidd  Ivave  been 
amazed  at  the  want  of  faith  in  him  who  was 
to  have  wrought  such  a  change  in  her  house- 
hold, and  she  might  have  exclaimed,  "  0 
Ephraim  !  what  shall  I  do  unto  thee  V  O  J  udah  ! 
what  shall  I  do  unto  tbee?  for  your  good- 
ness is  as  a  nu)rning  cloud,  and  as  the  early 
dew  it  goelh  away." 

That  same  evening,  after  tlieir  return  from 
Ex  ter  Hall,  Mrs.  Baker  entertained  a  few 
fr  lids — some  members  of  her  class  besides 
Mr.  Wesley  Jacobs, the  local i)reaclur. Thonuis 
lioistiT,  and  one  or  two  other  iiiHiiential  church 
members  on  the  circuit.  Nearly  all  spoke  in 
praise  of  the  Bible  Society,  and  of  the  jilea- 
siLfe  atforded  them  in  witnessing  such  unani- 
mity among  members  of  ditlerent  i)ersuasions. 
Oiu'  and  ail  were,  however,  i)articularly  de- 
lighted that  Doctor  Buster's  pride  had  been 
humi)led  ;  and  Mr.  Baker  wore  a  smile  of 
quilt  satisfaction  at  the  thought  that  the  re- 
sult of   hiH  counter-plot  had  been  so  success- 


ful, and  that  the  great  Proshyterian  champion 
and  his  allies  had  been  force<l  to  submit. 
Indeed,  he  felt  as  satisfied  of  his  own  individual 
prowess  in  the  achievement  of  this  victory  as 
Le  did  of  the  supremacy  of  Methodism  over 
every  other  ism  of  the  day. 

"  What  a  i)ity,  friends."  said  he,  "  that  such 
a  distinguished  lu-ro  of  Black  Presbyt^-rianism 
;  should  1)0  obliged  to  sit   so  nu'eklyj^between 
myself  and  Jonah  Hall,  and  never  get  a  chance 
to  say  more  than  Ai/wii  the  whole  day.     I 
fancy  they  won't  send  nus  another  invitation 
in  a  hurry  to  attend  at  brother  Cah^b  Howes 
I  Baptist  wash-house  ;  but  we'll  watch  them  for 
the  future,  and  if  they  catch  nu;  asleep,  why, 
;  then,  they're  welcome'  to  all  they  can  ge.." 
I      "  I  declare,  brother,"  said  the  local  preacher, 
I  "the  doctor  did  keep  unusually  .still  to-day; 
he  has  assurance  enough,  he  can  bt>  bold  if  lie 
,  likes  but  1  thought  there  whs  some  other  in- 
fluence at  work  to  keep  him  quiet.     A  ])opu- 
larity  hunter  like  him  is  not  easily  silenced, 
I  es])ecially  when  he  could  not  fail  to  notice  so 
j  many  of  his  admirers  presei  t." 
I      "It  was  rather  strange;  he  fancied,  I  sup- 
I  pose,  that   none   of    us    humble     preachers 
i  would  have  the  assurance  to  appear   on  the 
:  jdatform  alongside  of  his  dignity,  and  that  he 
'■  would  have  iit  ail  to  himself,  w'lu'ther  or  no. 
Wasn't  he  mistaken  though  V  However,  I  think 
the  thictor  was  not  himself ;  he  was  as  lidgetiy 
as  a  sick  bear,  and  for  s(mie  reason  <  r  other  he 
seemed  to  keep  a  watchful  eye,  eithiT  upon 
that   sedatii   impostor,  Martin  Manners,  who 
'  was  right  in  front  of  us,  or  upon  1  is  vvifn  or 
daughter  ;  while  he,  in  turn,  stared  back  as  de- 
fiantly.    There's  something,  1  think,  between 
that  precious  pair ;  I  must  find   it  out  from 
,  brother  Capel." 

I  "  I  almost  forgot.  "  said  a  pious  sister,  "  How 
I  is  sister  ^Manners  likely  to  succeed  '?  Do  you 
■  thiidc  that  brother  Cajjcl  will  add  another  seal 
:  to  his  ministry  bv  the  conversion  of  her  hus 
'  band  V" 

"  The  Lord  alone  can  tell,"  nu'ekly  rejdied 
Mrs.  Baker,  "the  work  is  in  his  hands.  Our 
poor  sister  is  still  hopeful;  but  her  luLsbaiul 
is  yet  i)utt'ed  up  with  the  pride  of  his  heart. 
Alas  1  his  day  of  grace  may  be  already  yiassed  ; 
he  maylxi  left  to  the  sole  comfort  oi'liisweak 
reason.  You  know  Avhat  the  Scri))ture8  say. 
'Mysjurit  shall  not  always  strive  with  man.' 
He  may  yet  bewail,  and  saj, 

'Ah !  wrelrV.  tl'tit  I  am  !  I  can  only  oxdniin, 

Like  II  devil  lonnented  williiii, 
My  Siivioiir  is  juone,  and  1ms  \v.li  nie  alono 

To  tlic  fury  dI'  Satan  and  »in.'  " 

"Let  him  go,"  said  Mr.  Baker  testily.  "I 
never  had  any  hope  of  Ins  submission  to' truth. 
Let  him  go  with  the  rest.  I  jilace  but  little 
confidence  in  what  our  state  bishops  say  on  be- 
half of  true  religion  ;  th(!y  are  greedy  imjjos- 
tors  ;  but  I  \\as  glad  to  hear  them  rate  infidel 
ity  at  its  projxr  vahus ;  and  that,  too,  in  the 
])resence  of  such  an  upholder.  Psha  !  brother 
<."ai)el  has  no  more  influence  over  that  man 
than  1  would  hav(!  over  the  Pope  of  Bonn-." 

"And  yet^"  pleaded  one  of  tin;  youngest 
sisters,  "ycm  see  he  had  sufficient  iriHuenci!  to 
induce  'lim  to  attend  at  Exeter  Hall." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  sist<'r ;  it  was  all  a  matter 
of  mcie  curiosity.    Martin  Manuors  went  there 


mn^ 


EXETER    HALL. 


107 


I  champion 

to  siibmit. 

individual 

victory  as 

)di8in  over 

" that  such 
ntcrianinni 
lyj^l)ctw<H'n 
:t't,  a  chance 
)lo  day.  I 
■  invitation 
U'h  Howes 
di  them  for 
iHleep,  why, 
»n  fve.." 
il  preacher, 
itill  to-duy  ; 
c  bold  il"  he 
ne  other  in- 
t.  A  popu- 
ly  nlenced, 
()  notice  go 

cied,  I  sup- 
preachers 
)ear  on  the 
and  that  he 
■ther  or  no. 
Ljver,  1  think 
sasiidgetty 

(  r  otlier  he 
either  upon 
nnorrt,  wlio 

I  is  wife  or 
1  hack  usde- 
nk,  between 
it  out  from 

inter, "  How 
1?    Do  you 

another  6<eal 
of  her  hus- 

kly  replied 
andB.  Our 
er  husband 
f  his  lieart. 
ady  y)asyed  ; 
ot  liis  weak 
ijitures  say, 
with  man.' 

'xcliiim, 
alone 

ti'ritily.     "  I 

ion  to  truth. 

■e  l)Ut  little 

i)K  say  on  be- 

■ecdy  imjjos- 

rate  infidel 

,  too,  in  the 

ha!  brother 

r  tliat  man 

'  of  Home.' 

lie  ycmnRest 

iiiHuenc«  to 

all." 

all  a  matter 
H  went  there 


to  criticise — to  hear  what  could  be  said ;  I  '  thougrht  and  interest  were  manifested.  Tlie 
know  him."  j  prevailing  theme  related  to  the  peculiar  efforts 

"I  didn't  thinlij]^\ich  of  the  speeches,  any  resorted  to  for  the  pro])ajTation  of  Christianity 
way,"  said  Mr.  TBlonias  Bolster,  a  very  stroiifr  and  its  eleemosynary  system  of  taxation  ;  and 
Metliodist.  "  We  all  know  what  the  bisliops  in  the  buzz  of  conversation  one  could  easily 
are ;  Spurjjreon  and  his  little  apple  were  very  detect  that  the  State  Cliurch,  the  aristocracy, 
imicli  alike.  I  think  our  secretary  made  the  |  the  Bible  Society,  and  Exeter  Hall,  bishops, 
only  sptiech  worth  hearinj?."  j  parsons,  priests,  and  preachers  came  in  for  no 

'•  Wife,"  said  Mr.  Baker  suddenly,  after  a  small  share  of  animadversion.  Samuel  watch- 
inonient's  thought,  "  was  brother  Capel  here  ed  the  face  of  more  than  one  eager  sj)euker,  and 
hitely  V"  j  he  sf)on  became  satisfied  that  though  several  of 

"  No  ;  not  for  oome  days  ;  not,  I  think,  since  those  around  him  had  a  somewhat  rough  ex- 
you  returned  from  district  meeting."  terior,  they  liad  manly  hearts,  and  were  men 

"  Vi'ry  strange!  I  do  not  know  how  it  is,  who  had  read  and  thouglit  for  themselves — 
I  see  liim  but  seldom.  I  liad  scarcely  tinu;  to  were  a  type  of  the  free  and  progressive  spirit 
say,'  How  do  you  do  V'  tolnm  after  the  meeting  of  the  British  nation  ;  men  who  could  not  be 
to-day  before  he  was  off  again  with  his  I'riends.  intimidated  l)y  royal  threats  or  hu'dly  frowns, 
Heoiiglit  to  have  called  here  upon  his  return  or  made  tamely  submissive  to  tlio  pn-judiced 
from  the  circuit.  He  must  be  greatly  devoted  and  oppressive  acts  of  any  servile  or  aristo- 
to  sister  Manners,  or  to  her  husband,  or  some    cratic  Parliament.  .. 

one  of  her  family.  I  have  Iieard  tliat  he  enter-  A  notice,  placed  in  a  consi)icuons  part  of  the 
tains  a  most  exalted  opinion  of  his  friend  Man-  room,  stated  tliat  the  n^gularVeekly  meeting 
nors  ;  it  can  not  be  on  account  of  his  religious   of  tlie  Secularists  of  the  Strand  district  would 


principles.  Then,'  c<nitinued  he  sharply, 
"  what  is  it  for ;  what  is  the  nature  of  the  Ijond '! 
This  must  be  looked  after."  But  suddenly 
cliecking  himself,  he  adroitly  turned  the  con- 
versation on  Doctor  Buster  and  tlie  bishops  ; 
he  was  too  cautious  to  scrutinize  tlie  conduct 


be  held  at  their  large  hall,  in  a  street  within  a 
short  distance  ot  tiie  lied  Lion.  In  about 
half  an  hour,  there  was  a  general  movement  of 
all  for  the  place  ;  and  Samuel,  l)eing  anxious 
to  go,  and  having  previously  lornied  a  friendly 
ac(iuaintance  witii  several  of  the  visitors,  was 


of  tlie  junior  ])reacher  before  any  of  the  tlock  ;    particularly  invited  to   attend   thi;  meeting. 


he  would  have  a  long  talk  with  liis  wife  al)out 
him  when  the  friends  went  home. 

After  sundry  cups  of  tea  and  other  morii 
solid  refreshments  had  been  piously  consum- 
ed, Mr.   Balcei',   with    brothers    BoLster   and 


Taking  the  arm  of  the  secretary,  h  ;  followed 
the  crowd,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  conducted 
to  a  seat  in  a  spacious  and  well-lighted  hall, 
capable  of  accommodating  seven  or  eight  hun- 
dred persons,  and  wliicli  was  already  more 


Jacobs,  stealthily  retired  to  light  their  pipes  '  than  two  thirds  filled  when  he  entered.     The 

in  th(»  kitchen,  while   the  sisters  were   left  speaker's   platform  was  elevated  about  two 

chatting  agreealdy  at  the  tea-talile.     In  about  feet  aliove  the   floor,   and  mottoes    or  trite 

half  an  hour,  they  all  reas.semb]ed  in  the  littJe  phrases,  printed  in  large  letters,  could  be  seen 

parlor.     Mr.  Wesh^y  Jacolis  gave  a   peculiar  in  several  conspicuous  places.    One  over  the 

sigh,  and  made  a  favorite  allusion  to  tlie  pre-  platform  read  :  "  Beason,  our  most  intellectual 

8(!nce  wliich  would  be  manifested  where  two  g^ide."  Another,  "  Hear  all  sides,"  and  above 

or  three  were  gathered  together  in  the  name  these,  and  almost  touching  the  frescoed  ceil- 

of  the  Lord.    There  was  then  a  round  of  pray-  ing.  tlu!  word  "  Tuurii,"  in  golden  text-chu- 


er  for  the  spread  of  the  (lospel  and  the  con- 
version of  the  world  ;  and  Air.  Baker  made  a 
closing  and  patlu^tic  appeal  forth(!  increase  *)f 
the  Weslt^yan   t'hurcli,  lor  all  who  were   in 


racters.  flashed  down  upon  the  assembly. 

Tli(!  hall  was  soon  crowded,  and  a  number  of 
well-trained  singerj?  in  front  commenced  the 
following  liberal  song,  which,  from  the  pecu 


trouble,  for  all  who  W(»r(!  in  error,  for  the  poor  liarity  of  tin;  words  and  harmony  of  the  air, 
biMiighted  heathen,  and  for  missionaries  far,  ami  excellent  manner  of  performance,  seemed 
far  away. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

Onr  evening,  a  day  or  two  after  the  Bible 
meeting,  Samuel  Sijdes  (Mitered  the  large  room 
of  the  Red  liion.     He  found  it  well  filhul  with  a 
number  of  intelligent  shop-keepers,  ch-rks,  ar- 
tis-.ns,  and  other  persons.     (Jood  John  Hoi  lis, 
the  landlord,  movtid  with  cheerful  look  from 
table  to  table,  stop]»ing  now  and  then  to  giv(! 
a  word  or  two  of  welcome  to  one  or  anotlu'r, 
or  to  pause,  in  order  to  catcli  more  fully  tlie 
remarks  made  by  some  more  fervent  speaker 
than  usual.     Many  of  those  assembled  were  ■ 
tpiietly  sipiiing  the  stout  ale  for  which  the  Bed  j 
Lion  was  noted  ;  othtjrs  were  h)oking  over  the  j 
daily  papers,  or  reading   to    those    near    liy  ', 
jiassages  from  some  popular  or  favorite  author  ;  j 
while  the  majority  seemed  to  bo  earntsstly  en- 1 
gaged  iu  familiar  discourse,  iu  which  luucU  I 


to  have  had  a  most  animating  etVect  upon 
all  present.  Nearly  every  one  appeared  to 
know  th(i  words  and  their  jmrport,  and,  as 
they  followed  the  leading  singers  in  swelling 
the  strain  which  now  filled  the  place,  Samuel 
Styles  was  forcibly  reminded  of  his  younger 
days,  and  he  almo.st  fancied  himself  again  at 
a  Christian  meeting  iu  his  native  land : 

Seculaiust's  Sono. 

Wo'vn  been  wuitiiif;  throiiu'li  tlio  iii;,-ht, 
And  tho  (Inwn  will  hooii  iippciir  ; 

And  tin-  monntainV  misty  lu'iLilit, 

From  lilt-  clituds  sliiill  bnrst  out  l)rijj;ht; 

And  till!  i'UkIc  in  liiH  tlit;lit 
lU'Uilia  I'lidinnt  atinii.-|ilioru; 

And  tlio  tdilci'on  liis  way 

Wiiill  look  npand  i^ol'  llio  day. 

O  blonk  timo  when  hope  soomnd  dead  I 

Aacx  lost  in  donbt  and  },d'»>ni; 
AiKlwIiolt'  ccntuiii's  of  di'uad 
By  dark  snporciition  li'd, 
Until  rwison  almost  lied 

From  u  throne  into  u  toaib ; 


'^W!!.m%' 


108 


EXETER    HALL. 


3  ,  "-l 


[f       4 

k   k 


-%► 


Till  the  mind  in  frenzied  flight 
Darted  deeper  into  nij;lit. 


But  the  dawn  on  every  side, 
Tlie  jjleani  of  plorioiis  day. 
Will  be  seen  while  shadows'  hide ; 
Then  the  priest  in  toweriiitr  pride, 
And  the  prophet  who  has  lied. 
Shall  forever  lose  their  sway, 
And  the  desi)ot  and  the  slave 
Shall  lie  mouldering  in  one  ijrave.  , 


tlie  latter,  except  the  Jews  ?'  Writers  who 
have  made  their  histom^ study  ass»?rt  that 
the  Jews,  as  a  people,  ^vHHa  rude,  barbarous, 
cruel,  blood-thirsty  trib^Kand  ApoUonius, 
quoted  by  Josephus,  said  tfflft  the  Jews  wciro 
the  most  trifling  of  all  the  harburians,  and 
that  they  were  the  onljj  people  who  had  never 
found  out  any  thinpr  uselul  for  life.  The 
fjreat  Doctor  Burnet,  in  his  Archa'olotjiw  Phi- 
At  the  close  of  the  sonjr,  the  chairman,  a  i  ^f»cM*<^'^>  ad^^its  that  they  were  of  a  gross  and 
venerable  gentleman,  introduced  the  speaker,  j  sluggish  nature,  of  a  dull  and  heavy  disjwsi- 
and  wlicn  the  name  of  Martin  Mannors  was  i  tion,  bereft  of  humanity,  a  vile  company  of 
mentioned,  the  •demonstrations  of  wf.'Icome  men.  Even  Josephus  concedes  that  his  conn- 
were  so  gnat  that  it  was  some  time  before  a  trymeu  were  so  illiterate  as  never  to  have 
woril  coulil  be  heard.  As  soon  as  an  opportu- 1  written  any  thing  or  to  have  held  intercourse 
nity  offered,  Mr.  IVIannors  com nicnced:  |  with    their    learned    neighbors.     Indeed,  no 

•'Mr  Chairman 4ind  my  friends:  As  this  is  !  people  of  antiquity  were  more  ignorant, cred- 
the  ])eri()d  when  various  religious  societies,  and  nlous,  intolerant,  and  wretched  than  the  Jews, 
those  interested  iiyihe  circulation  of  the  Bible,  ^Vhile  the  ancient  Chaldeans,  Arabians,  Egyp- 
or  what  thoy  caWthe  '  word  of  (iod,'  hold  their  tians,  (irecians,  and  Bonums  produced  their 
annual  meetirfgs  in  Exeter  Hall  t^  collect  men  of  science  and  eruditi(m,  the  Jews  added 
more  moneylur  pious  i)urposes,  it  will  be  a   ""thing  to  the   glorious  pyramid  of  human 


pro[)er  time  "for  us  to  aslv,  what  tlie  Bible  is, 
and  on  what  is  its  surprising  claim  to  infalli- 
bility  founded.  Sucli  a  claim,  howt-ver,  is  not 
peculiar  to  the  Christian  Biiile  ;  the  Buddhists, 
tlu!  Mohammedans,  the  Mormons,  and  others 
insist  on  that  characteristic  for  their  so-called 
insjiired  books,  and  are  as  jiositive  in  asserting 
that  they  have  the  evidence  of  prophecy  and 


knowledge  ;  and  yet  wt;  are  to  believe,  even 
in  the  nineteenth  century,  that  a  being  said 
to  be  '  all  wise'  and  'all' good'  selected  such 
a  race  as  his '  chosen  people,'  the  people  who 
were  soldi/  and  fiprcidlh/  intrustetl  with  his 
divine  word  ?   AVhat  a  niockery  !* 

"  It  is  a  singular  proof  of  the  want  of  correct 
information  among  believers  in  the  Christian 


miracles  to  as  lull  an  extent  in  sui)port  of  their  j  l^ible  that,  with  very  few  excei)tioiis,  they  are 
warranty  to  a  divine  revelation  as  that  so  au- 1  "f  the  opinion,  that  that  book  always  retained 
tlioritatively  demanded  by  Christians.  In  as 
few  words  as  the  nature  of  the  subject  will  per- 
mit, we  shall  make  some  observations  on  the 
Bible  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  those  who 
feel  interested  in  ascertaining,  '  What  ie 
truth '^'  will  make  a  fuller  intjuiry,  and  be  sat- 
islied  as  to  the  correctness  of  oiir  asst^rtions: 
no  amount  of  scrutiny  can  injure  truth. 

"  It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  tlie  Jews,  who  ore 
said  by  Christians  to  have  been  the  lirst  ])rivi- 


its  present  form  ;  wlu'reas,  iu  truth,  there  was 
no  proper  canon  or  collection,  even  of  the 
books  of  the  Old  Ti-stamwU,  until,  about  two 
hundred  years  before  the  tinui  given  tor  the 
birth  of  Christ.  Previous  to  that  period,  a 
great  number  of  '  holy  books'  were  scattered 
about,  occasionally  altered  or  amended,  just 
as  ]>riests.  or  propliets,  or  rulers  might  deter- 
mine. 'I'lio  early  history  of  the  Bilde  is 
shrouded  in  almost  imi)i'netrable  darkness.  As 


leged  with  a  message  from  the  deity,  and  who  '  ^^'e  now  have  it,  the  Old  Testament  is  com- 
are  or  were  once  known  as  the  'chosen  peo-!  l"^sed  of  thirt^'-nine  books,  exclusive  of  a  num- 
ple  of  God,'  only  came  into  notice  after  the  i  ^^'■'  ^^  others  called  ' Kpocri/phid'  but  which 
timeof  Alexander  the  Great ;  and  that  the  his- 1  *^™  still  received  by  the  Boman-Catholic 
torical  monuments  preceding  that  period  make  !  Church  as  canonical;  and  tin;  New  Testament 
not  the  slightest  mention  of  any  Jewish  trans- 1  l"is  twenty-seven  books.     Therefore,  the  total 


action  •  and  that  the  Jews  were  unknown  to 
the  world  as  a  nation  until  thev  were  sub- 
jected by  the  Komaus.  This  has  been  fully 
established  by  the  celebrated  Wyttenbacli. 
Professor  Cooper,  of  America,  also  writes,  that 
no  authentic  liistorian  of  ancient  times,  Jose- 
phus excepted,  has  ever  mentioned  the  Jews  as 
an  independent  nation  or  state,  or  as  b<'ing  in 
possession  of  Palestine;,  or  any  part  of  Great 
Syria  before  or  in  the  time  of  'Alexander.  As 
a  nation,  they  appear  to  have  been  entirely 
unknown  to  Herodotus  and  all  other  Greek 
Ikistoriaiis  !  In  view  of  these  facts,  another 
Anu'riean  writer*  has  said  :  '  But  what  con- 
lidi'iice  can  be  placed  in  the  ancient  writings 
of  a  people  so  insignificant  and  obscure  a«  to 
be,  as  it  were,  totally  unknown  to  other  na- 
tions till  at  least  a  ci-idury  after  all  the  facts, 
real  or  pretended,  tlua-ein  recorded  were  said 
to  have  been  written  Y  Who  ever  knew  any 
thing  al)out  King   David,  or  King  Solomoii 


number  of  books  composing  the  orthodox 
or  English  Bible  is  sixty-si 5c  ;  and  these 
are  accepted  by  the  Beformed  Church 
of  the  i)resent  day  as  inspired.  Now, 
although  it  is  strongly  asserted  by  the 
clerical  defenders  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
Bible,  that  the  Lord  has  miraculously  pre- 
served the  '  sacred  writings,'  yet,  without 
particularizing  any  of  the  forgeries,  interpo- 
lations, or  corruptions  discovered,  we  find  that 
there  were  several  other  inspired  books,  re- 
ferred to  in  the  Bible  as  authoritative,  which 
have  been  entirdy  lost,Mv\.  which  are  alluded 
to  by  commentators  as  the  '  lost  books.'  Wo 
find  passages  in  the  Bible  relating  to  about 
twenty  of  these ;  but,  for  the  sake  of  brevity, 
wo  shall  enumerate  texts  which  only  refer  to 
a  few  of  them — such  as  '  The  Book  of  tlie 
Wars  of  the  Lord;  '  The  Book  of  Jmhcf 
'  The  Act,^  of  Solomon;  '  The  Book  of  ihid, 
the  Seer;  '  the  Prophen/  of  Ahijah;  '  The  Vi- 


and tlio  splendid  temple  built  at  Jerusalem  bv   ^^""-^  "f  IMo;  and  '  The  Book  of  Shemaiah,  the 

'  i  Prophet; 


Kueelaud. 


*  R.  Cooper,  of  England. 


EXETER    HALL. 


109 


''riters  avIio 
asB(?rt  that 
,  barbarous, 
Apollonius, 
Jews  wc^ro 
avians,  and 
o  had  never 

life.  The 
olojiw  Phi- 
a  gross  and 
[ivy  disposi- 
;(nnpaiiy  of 
lit  liis  Conn- 
er to  have 
intercourse 
Indeed,  no 
lorant,  cred- 
n  the  Jews, 
ians,  Egyp- 
[iiccd  their 
Jews  added 

of  human 
C'lieve,  even 

l)ein<>-  said 
lected  such 
people  who 
d  with  his 

it  of  correct 
le  Christian 
us,  tlu!y  are 
lys  retained 
1,  there  was 
■ven  of  the 
,  about  two 
ven  for  the 
t  period,  a 
0  scattered 
ended, just 
lioht  deter- 
10  Eilde   is 
irkness.  As 
cut  is  com- 
of  a  nuin- 
but  which 
an-Catholic 
Testament 
the  total 
orthodox 
and    these 
I     CI  lurch 
d.      Now, 
■d    by   the 
ess  of  the 
lously  pre- 
t,    without 
•s,  interpo- 
Ive  fni<l  that 
books,  ro- 
tive,  which 
ire  alluded 
)ok8.'     We 
(T  to  about 
of  brevity, 
ily  refer  to 
](>ok  of  the 
of  Jashfr' 
ok  of  Gad, 
,;  '  iltc  Vi- 
cmaiah,  the 


"  I  will 
proof: 


read  extracts  from  the  Bible  as 


" '  Wherefore,  it  Is  Bald  in  the  buok  of  the  wars  of  the 
Lord  what  he  did  in  the  Red  Sea  and  in  the  brooks  of 
Aruon  V    Numbers  21 :  14. 

•' '  Is  not  this  written  in  the  boolc  of  Jasher?'  Josh. 
10 :  13.  '  Behold,  it  is  written  in  the  boolc  of  Jat^her  1 ' 
2  Samuel  1 :  18. 

•'  •  And  the  rest  of  the  acts  of  Solomon,  are  they  not 
written  in  the  book  of  the  acts  of  Solomou?'  1 
Kiiifrs  11 :  41. 

"  "Now  the  acts  of  David  the  Kinp,  first  and  last,  be- 
hold, they  are  written  in  the  book  of  Samuel  the  seer, 
and  in  the  book  of  Nathan  the  prophet,  and  in  the 
book  of  Gad  the  6eer.'    1  Chrou.  29:  29. 

"  You  will  perceive  that  this  verse  alone  re- 
fers to  more  than  ope  of  the  lost  books. 

" '  Now  the  rest  of  the  acts  of  Solomon,  first  and  last, 
arc  they  not  written  in  the  book  of  Nathan  the  i>ro- 
nliet,  and  in  the  prophecy  of  Ahijali  theShilonite,  and 
lu  the  visions  of  Iduo  the  seer,  u;;ainsttJeroboam,  the 
souof  >;ebaiy"    2d.  Ciiron  9:  29. 

"  This  verse  also  mentions  three  of  the  lost 
books ; 

'• '  Now  the  actsof  Kehoboam.  first  and  last,  arc  they 
not  written  ii  thcbook  of  Shemainh  the  prophet,  and 
of  Iddo  the  seer  concerning  yeuealogies y"  2  Climn. 
12  :  15. 

"  Here  two  others  of  the  lost  books  are 
sjwken  of;  and  I  think  we  have  sutttcient  evi^ 
deuce  that  the  Bible  is  deficient  in  one  par- 
ticular r(!spect :  it  does  not  contain  all  of  the 
so-culled  'inspired  word.'* 

"  You  will  remember  that  wo  stated  that 
there  was  no  proper  form  or  collection  ot  the 
books  of  the  Old  Testament  until  about  300 
years  befon!  Christ ;  we  will  now  state  that 
tluire  was  no  regular  satisfactory  collection  of 
the  books  comijosinfr  the  New  Testament  until 
the  middle  of  the  iiidli  ce.itury,  over  500  years 
al't.;r  tho  death  of  the  rei)uted  founder  of 
Christianity  !  Up  to  the  period  of  the  council 
of  Nice,  A.D.  337,  a  great  many  Acts,  (Josi)els, 
Epistles,  and  Eeveiations  were  circulated,  and 
received  among  the  faithful  as  of  e<£ual  author- 
Ity.f 

'"  There  Avere,  of  course,  conflicting  opinions 
as  to  their  credibility,  and  st'rious  contentions 
arose  in  cim.-eciueuce ;  the  book  which  on(i 
priest  rejected,  another  would  accc])t  ;  to 
sifttle  the  dispute  in  some  way,  a  selection  of 

•  Du  Pin,  Professor  of  Philosophy  at  Paris,  and  au- 
thor of  a  Compute  llMdvij  of  tlii'  CaiKnuml  WrUemo/ 
(lit  Jiooks  of  (he  Old  and  AV/c  TiffotiicidK,  says : 

"  St.  lOiicharlus  says,  '  it  is  evident  wliy  we  li;»vc  not 
tlu;  rtinalnini?  books  wliieli  tlie  Holy  Scriptures  »])■ 
prove  of,  because  Judea,  havin^r  been  raviitjcd  by  tho 
Cliakleans,  and  the  ancient  bil»liotlu'(iui'  beiiiL; burnt, 
tliwe  nMuains  only  a  snuill  luiniber  of  tlie  books  wliicli 
ut  present  nutke  up  the  Holy  SiTi|)tures,  and  wliich 
were  collected  and  reestablisiied  by  the  care  of  E/ra.' 

"  Simon,  in  his  VrUlcal  HiMory  of  (he,  Vtrdon  q/"  the 
Xtiv  7'ci't((ment,  quotes  St.  I'lirysos'toni  thus: 

"The  .lews,  havln;i:  been  at  some  time  careless  and 
at  others  profane,  surt'ered  some  of  the  sacred  books 
to  be  lost  throui^'h  their  careiesauess,  aud  l.avo  Wurut 
and  destroyed  others." 

+  Amonf»  the  ai)i)eryphal  books  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment were  tho  ({oupm  of  St.  Peter.  St.  Tliouuis,  St. 
Mathias,  St.  BarthobmniW,  St.  I'hilip,  .ludas  Isearuit, 
'i'liatUleus,  and  llaruabas.  There  were  the  Actx  of  St. 
Teter,  St.  Paul,  St.  Andrew.  St.  John,  St.  I'hilip.  and 
St.  Thomas,  and  the  JiereJatloiis  of  St.  Paul.  St.  Tho- 
mas, St.  Htei)hen,  and  the  (ireat  Apostle.  The;  ;•  and 
many  others  wereat  one  time  considered  as  of  "  divine 
authority,"  but  now  rejected— </io«(/A  tiot  yet  et\iih  by 
all— an  spurious. 


the  true  from  the  false  was  made  by  the  as- 
sembled bishops  at  Nice  ;  and  Papias,  the 
Christian  father,  informs  us  as  to  the  manner 
of  ihat  selection.  Wo  shall  give  his  own 
words  :  '  This  was  done,'  said  he,  '  by  plac- 
ing all  the  books  under  a  communion-table, 
and,  ui)on  the  prayers  of  the  council,  the  in- 
spired books  jum])ed  upon  the  table,  while  the 
false  ones  remained  under !'  After  a  timg, 
however,  many  mocked  at  this  manner  of  se- 
lection, and  priestly  wrangling  continued  as 
fierce  as  ever. 

"  About  tho  year  363  A.P.,  another  council, 
called  the  council  of  Laodicea,  was  held,  to 
make  a  more  perfect  selection  of  the  holy 
books.  This  time,  the  manner  of  doing  so 
was  by  ri4e  ;  and  it  is  said  a  list  of  the  books 
of  the  New  Testament,  nearly  as  we  now 
have  them,  was  then  chosen,  but  the  book  of 
lievelutions  was  excluded.  And  St.  Chry.sos- 
tom,  who  died  A.D.  407,  informs  us  tluit  in 
his  time  the  book  of  the  Acts  of  the  Ajtostles 
was  little  known.  After  this,  two  other  coun- 
cils were  held,  one  in  the  year  400,  and  the 
other  about  the  year  G80.  The  council  of  400 
rejected  somo  books  deemed  canonicnl  by  the 
council  of  303  ;  but  the  council  of  GbO  restored 
them.  Thus,  until  a  late  ]>eriod,  did  contend- 
ing priests  leave  the  settlement  of  the  '  divine 
word'  in  doubt  and  confusion.  A  writer 
says  :  '  Thus  were  the  "sacred  writings,"  tho 
"  word  of  God,"  '  tossed  like  a  Imttledoor  i'nmi 
sect  to  sect,  aud  altered  as  the  spirit  of  faction 
might  dictate.' 

"  As  an  evidence  that  '  ordained  heads'  at 
th(>se  councils  did  not  always  conduct  tliem 
selves  in  a  ])roper  spirit,  we  shall  (juote  the 
words  of  the  great  Christian  writer,  Tindal,  on 
the  subject:  'Indeed,'  says  he,  'the;  cMniu- 
sion  aiul  disorder  were  so  great  amongst  tliera, 
especially  in  their  synods,  that  it  sonx'times 
ciuue  to  hloirn;  as,  for  instance,  Dii)sc(n-us, 
bishop  of  Alexandria,  c(;j/vY?  and  kicked  Flavi- 
anus,  ]iatriarch  of  Constantinojtle,  with  that 
fury  that  within  three  days  after  he,  died!' 
Aud,  s])eaking  of  their  doctrinal  consistency, 
1h!  says,  'For  though  they  were  most  obsti- 
nate as  to  poircr,  they  were  most  flexil)!e  nS  to 
faith  ;  and  in  their  council,  complimentfd  the 
I'iiiiperor  with  whatsoi^ver  creeds  they  had  a 
mind  to,  aud  never  sc^rupled  to  recant  what 
they  had  before  enacted,  or  rei^nact  what  they 
had  befoiv;  recanted.' 

"  If  these  men  werf  inspired  to  seji>ct  the 
true  from  the  false  out  of  such  a  number  of 
l)ooks--and  it  would  reipiire  '  insi)iruii()n'  for 
the  purpose — tho  godly  priests  proved  rather 
Hexil.le. 

"That  no  doubt  may  exist  as  to  the  iieriod 
when  tl\e  New  Testament  was  com] s»;ed,  wo 
shall  give  the  statement  of  anotht-r  distin- 
guished Christian  ;  the  learned  Dr.  Lardner 
says :  '  That  even  so  late  as  the  muUlle  of  the 
sixth  century,  tho  canon  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment had  not  been  settled  by  any  authority 
that  was  decisive^  and  universally  acknow- 
ledged, but  Cliristian  people  were  at  liberty 
to  judge  for  themselves  concerning  the  genu- 
ineness  of  writings  proposed  to  them  us  apos 
tolical,  and  to  determine  according  to  evi- 
dence.'   Vol.  ;<,  i)p.  .')4-(il. 

"  The  Uev.T.  11.  Home,  in  his  second  edition 


110 


EXETER    HALL. 


n: 

♦  IT 


of  his  Introdnetion  to  the  Scriptures*  says: 
'•  Tho  accounts  left  us  by  ccclesiaslical  writers 
of  autiquity,  coucerninjj:  the  time  when  the 
(io8i)el8  Avero  written  or  i)ublishecl.  arc  so 
vuuiw,  call  fused,  and  disconlnut  tliat  they 
lead  to  no  certain  or  solid  determination. 
The  eUli'sl  of  the  ancient  fatliers  collected 
the  liKl'OKTS  of  their  own  tinie!^,  and  set  them 
down  as  certain,  tral/is,  and  those  who  fol- 
lowed ailoi)ted  their  accounts  A\ith  implicit 
reverence.  Thus  tradition,  true  ov false,  passed 
on  from  one  writer  to  another  without  exam- 
ination, until,  at  last,  it  became  too  lato  to 
exanune  them  to  any  jiurpose." 

"  It  must  not  be  inuiifined,  however,  that  the 
final  selection  of  tlie  books  of  the  ^'ew  Tes- 
tament <ravo  <<eneral  satisfaction  ;  evidence  is 
to  the  contrary.  Many  learned  Christian  men 
of  recent  times  have  expressed  themselves 
stronjj'ly  in  favor  of  several  of  the  discarded 
books,  even  <tH>in<j:  so  far  as  to  consider  them 
as  yeiiuine  as  any  of  the  canonized  vi'rsion ; 
and  to  silence  every  cavil  on  this  subject,  we 
sludl  contiue  ourselves  to  Christian  autiu,!-- 
ity. 

'"The  learned  Dr.  'Whiston,  on  i)ap;e  28  of 
his  Kvact  lime,  declares  that  ticcnti/scccn 
of  the  discarded  books  are  j^euuine ;  he  says, 
'  Can  any  one  be  so  weak  as  to  inui<iine  Mark. 
and  Luke,  and  James,  and  Jude,  who  were 
none  of  them  nitji-e  than  companions  of  the 
apostles,  to  be  our  sacred  and  unerrintr  {jfuides, 
while  Barnabas,  Tluuldeus,  Clement,  Timo- 
thy, Ilernuvs,  Ifjnatlus,  and  Tolycarp,  who 
were  ct/'udli/  companions  of  the  hame  apes 
ties,  to  be  of  no  authoriiii  at  ail  f 

"  In  his  Rationale  of  Reli;/i<>us  Inqviri/, 
the  liev.  J,  Martineau  says.  '  if  we  could  re- 
cover tli(i  gos])els  of  the  Ibibrews  and  that 
of  the  Ei>yptiau8,  it  would  be  ciillicult  to  yive 
a  reason  why  TiliOY  should  not  fi  vm  a  jiart  of 
the  New  Testament ;  and  an  epistle  aetiuiliy 
exists,  by  Clement,  the  fellow-laborer  of  Paul, 
which  has  as  f^ood  a  claim  to  stand  there  as 
the  Episths  to  the  Hebrews  or  the  (Jospid  of 
Luke.  If  none  but  the  works  of  the  twelve 
apostles  were  a(hnitte<l,  the  ride  would  be 
clear  and  simj)le ;  but  what  are  Mark  and 
Luke,  who  are  received,  more  tluiu  Clement 
and  Barnabas,  who  are  excluded  V' 

"  Bishop  Marsli  (observes  that,  '  It  is  an  un- 
doubted fact  that  those  Christians  by  whom 
the  now  rejected  }>ospcls  were  received,  aiui 
who  are  now  called  heretics,  were  in  the  right 
m  many  points  of  criticism  where  the  fathers 
accused  them  of  willful  corruptior.' 

"  jArchbishop  Wake,  who  actually  translated 
St.  Barnabas,  St.  Clement,  St,  Ijiiiatius,  St. 
Poly  carp,  and  St.  llernuis,  fathers  of  the  first 
century,  recommends  theiu  to  the  world  as 
'inspired'  and  as  'containinff  an  authorita- 
tive declaration  of  tiu;  tJospel  of  Christ  to  us.'f 

"  And  William  Penn,  the  celebrated  Quaker, 
in  an  argument  against  the  positive  accei)t- 
anceof  the  Bible  as  the  rule  of  faith  and  prac- 
tice, says,  '  I  demaiul  of  our  adversaries,  if 
they  are  well  assureil  of  those  men  who 
first  colhicted,  embodied*  and  declared  them 
(the  Scriptures)  authentic,  by  a  public  canon 

*V(il  iv.  p.  260. 

t  Sec  Wuke' 8  Apostolic  Fathera. 


which  we  read  was  in  the  Council  of  Laodicea, 
lield  3G0  years  after  Christ — I  say,  how  do 
they  know  that  thcfe  men  riyhthi  discermd 
true  from  spui  ioun/  Now,  sure  it  is  that  sonie 
of  the  Scriptures,  taken  in  by  one  council  were 
rejected  by  anollier  for  apocryplud,  and  that 
which  was  leit  out  by  the  former  f(H'  apocry- 
phal  was  taken  in  by  the  latter  for  canonical. 
Now,  visible  it  i.s,  that  they  contradict  eacli 
other,  and  as  true  tliat  they  have  erred  re- 
specting the  present  belief.'* 

"  We  could  multiply  such  admis-^ions,  but 
every  candid  hearer  will  agree  tiiat  we  have 
pi'otluced  sullicient  to  establish  the  fact  thai 
the  oitliodox  Bible  was  lajt  completed,  or  re- 
♦luced  to  its  present  form  until  between  five 
and  six  hundred  yvura  alter  Christ.  As  it  is, we 
have  now  tico  distinct  Christian  Bibles,  the  (>kl- 
est  or  Catholic  Scriptures,  which  include  the 
yjld  Testament  Apocrypha,  and  the  Protestant, 
or  King  James'  version,  which  excludes  them; 
some,indeed,  say  tliat  the  Bilde  of  the  Ureek 
Church  is  still  diil'erent.  Now,  a  large  major- 
ity of  Christians  are  Rcnnan Catholic,  and  thej , 
as  a  chuicli,  denounce  the  Protestant  13ibie. 
In  iSlt),  the  Pojie  declared  it  'pregmuit  with 
errorM  ;'  and  the  Protestants,  in  return,  though 
not  wholly  rejecting  the  Catholic  book,  say  it 
is  very  imi)erlect. 

"  'I'he lumi'St  investigatcu"  willfurthernune be 
astonished  to  learn  that  the  Jews  themselves, 
even  their  priests  anil  kings,  were  ignorant  of 
any  'divine  law,'  until  a  priest  named  llil- 
kiah  said  that  he  '  fouiul  the  book  of  the  law 
in  the  house  of  the  Jjord.'  This  wonderful 
discovery  is  said  to  have  taken  place  only  0'^8 
years  before  Christ,  centuries  after  tlie-  deatli 
ofMosi'S,  its  supposed  writer !  The  ."J  Ith  chap- 
ter of  2d  Chronicles  relates  the  matter,  ami 
tells  (if  the  surprise  and  dread  caused  by  the 
finding. 

"  The  inijuirer  will  be  still  more  astonished 
to  hear  that  that  same '  divine  book  of  the  law' 
was,  a  few  years  afte!  its  discovery  by  llilkiah, 
completely  lost  (souie  say  burnt)  during  the 
Babylonish  captivity,  and  never  aftencanl 
recDUrcd;  and  that  the  Uld  Testament  book:- 
whicli  we  now  have  were  n.'-written  by  Ezaa, 
or  Esdras.  Ilittel  says,  'The  ancient  Jews 
had  a  trailition  that  the  Mosaic  law  had  been 
burned  at  tlu'  time  of  the  captivity,  and  that  it 
had  been  republished  by  E/.ra ;  and  tlie  tradi- 
tion was  receiveil  as  trustworthy  by  Ireiueus, 
Clement  of  Aiexaiulria,  Clirysustom,  and  The- 
odoret.'  lu  the  Hebrew  Apocrypha,  Esdras 
says : 

" '  'J'iiy  law  if  Imrnert :  tliereforc  no  man  knowcth  the 
Ihiiii^s  \\liii:li  thou  iia^l  done,  or  the  worlds  lliataro  to 
i)t;;lii.  IJiU  it' 1  liaM'  luuiid  ^inicc  l)cloi'e  lliuu,  i>eiid 
down  tlio  Holy  Spi'-jt  into  mo.  and  1  !<liall  write  all  that 
liath  liiun  (liinu  in  llu^  woi-lcl  s^ince  llie  l)ej,'inuinf,', 
whirli  weii^  wriltiMi  in  lliy  law,  that  niun  may  liad  thy 
path.'    2  Ksdras  1 '  :  -Jl. 

'•  •  And  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  forty  days  worcful- 
fllU'U.  that  the  hidicst  spake,  i-ayin^'.  the  liist  that 
thou  hast  written  jiuhlish  oiK'uly,  tliul  the  Uadibli  and 
tuiwoithy  may  reail  U  ;  l)ut  Iveep  the  seventy  last,  that 
thou  mayest  deUvei-  them  only  to  Hueli  un  bo  wise 
among  the  pooplu,'    a  Ksdnis  14  :  4"!, 

"  Alluding  to  this,  the  Christian  fatlior  Ire- 
nfpus  says,  'tiiat,  they  (the  books  of  tho  Old 
Testament)  were  fahricated  seventy  years 
after  the   Babylonish  captivity   by    Esdras.' 

♦  I'eun,  vol,  i,  pp.  30i-4. 


EXETER    HALL. 


Ill 


1  of  Ljiodicea, 
say,  how  do 
ithi  tlisceniwl 
it  is  that  souni 
D  council  were 
lull,  and  that 
:•!•  for  apccry- 
for  canonical, 
ntruilict  eacli 
avc  I'rred  re- 

[missions,  hut 
tliat  \vc  have 
tliu  fact  that 
iplftal,  or  re- 
bctwfcn  five 
St.  As  it  is.we 
libk'S,  the  ((hi- 
ll include  the 
he  Protestant, 
secludes  them ; 
of  the  Ureek 
I  larj^e  inajor- 
(ilic,  andtlioj, 
leslaut  Dibie. 
iregnant  witli 
I'turn,  thout^li 
ic  book,  say  it 

urtherniorebe 
■s  themselves, 
'e  ignorant  ul 
t  named  liil- 
ok  of  tlie  law 
lis  wciuderful 
)hice  only  0'^8 
ter  the  death 
'lie;jltlichiip- 
J  matter,  auti 
caused  by  the 

)re  astonished 
lok  of  the  law' 
ry  by  ililkiah, 
It)  during  the 
( /•  aftiricuj'd 
litameiit  book:? 
itten  by  Ezra, 
ancient  Jewa 
law  had  bet'U 
ty,  and  that  it 
and  the  tradi- 
y  by  Ireiueut*, 
tom,  and  Tlie- 
;ypha,  Esdras 


nan  kiioweth  the 
loi'kti  tluitui'c  to 
I'loru  lliue,  tiCiid 
Kill  write  all  that 
the  ljej,'iimiii>,'. 
leu  may  liiid  thy 

rty  (lays  wore  ful- 
t;.  the  lii:-t  that 
L  thu  loolibh  and 
mveiUy  last,  that 
inch  uti  bo  wiao 


ian  father  Ire- 
ks  of  iho  Old 
seventy  years 
i   Ijy   Esdras.' 

4. 


And  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  without  venturing  so  j  tlui  days  of  the  Maccabees,  liy  Sirach.     It  is 
far,  says,  'All  antifjuity  is  nearly  unanimous  i  like  a  Talmud,  compiled  from    many  books. 


In  giving  Ezra  the  h(nijr  of  collecting  the 
different  writings  of  Closes  and  the  proi)liets, 
and  reditriiif/  tliem  into  the  form  in  which 
they  are  now  found  in  the  Holy  Bible.' 

"  Bagster  admits  that  Ezra,  'per/taps  as- 
sisted by  Neheniiah  and  the  great  synagogue, 
corrected  tin;  errors  which  had  crept  into  the  sa- 
ci'(!d  writings  through  the  negligence  or  mis- 
tivko  of  transcribers,'  and  that  '  li(}  occasion- 


i  perhaps  in  Egy[)t,  at  the  desire  of  King  Ptole- 
i  my  Euerg(!tes.  So  also  have  the  Priwrrbs 
I  of  Solomon  been  collected  by  otlu^rs.  The 
book  of  KMIii'V,  I  toss  into  the  Elbe.  I  am 
such  an  en.  my  to  the  book  of  Esther,  that  I 
j  wish  it  did  not  exist  ;  for  it  Jmlaizes  too  much, 
and  hath  in  it  a  gr(?at  deal  of  heathenish 
;  nauglitiness.  IsnUilt,  hath  borrowed  his  art  and 
j  kn(twledg(>  from  the  Psalter.  The  history  of 
ally  addi'il,  under  the  superintendence  of  the  ]  Jonah  is  so  monstrous  that  it  is  absolutely  in- 
Ilojy  Spirit,  whatever  ai)p(!ared  necessary  for  |  credibl(\  ThattheEi)istletothey/(i?>n'ywisn(Jt 
tlio  purpose  of  illustrating,  coinideting.  or  con-  '  by  St.  Paul,  nor  by  any  apostle  at  all  is  shown 
necting  th(.'m.'  This  appears  to  h:iv(!  been  a  i  by  chapter  3 :  3.  It  was  written  by  an  ex- 
very  extensive  licensee  God,  it  is  said,  first  in-  ceedingly  learned  man,  a  disciple  of  tlu'  apos- 
spired  men  to  write  his  law,  and  had  after-  ties.  It  should  be  no  stumbling-block  if  there 
ward  to  inspin?  Ezra  to  correct  the  errors  of  i  slioiild  be  found  in  it  a  mixture  of  wood, 
transcribers,  and  yet  a  tin )usaiv  dniitt(!d  er-  straw,  hay.  The  Epistle  oi  James  I  account 
rors  still  e.vist !  Ezra  '  added  ^  to  tlie  Scrip-  the  writing  of  no  ap(jstle ;  it  is  an  epistle  of 
tures,  in  order  to  'illustrate'  what  CJod  actu-  j  straw.     Tlio  Epistle  of  Jiide  is  a  copy  of  St. 


ally  meant  !  Could  more  have  been  said  as  to 
the  ambiguity  of  human  laws'/  To  what  de- 
])lorabl('!  shifts  have  our  semi-inspireil  priests 
li»een  reduced  ! 

"The  IJible,  having  attained  its  present 
form,  does  not,  however,  give  satisfact!  >n. 
While  the  Samaritan  Jews,  and  ancient  Sad- 
ducees  rejected  all  but  the  Pentateuch,  those 
same  books,  and  many  others  now  included  as 
canonical,  had  been  discard(!d  l)y  some  of  the 
primitive  fathers,  and   by  ])riestly  heroes  of 


Peter's,  and  altogether  has  stories  which  have 
no  phi,ce  in  Scriptun;. 

"  '  In  the  revelations  of  St.  John,  mu(;h  is 
wanting  to  let  me  deem  it  scriptural.  I  can 
discover  no  tra(,'es  that  it  is  establislied  by  the 
Spirit.'  *  Such  is  the  opinion  of  the  great  high- 
priest  of  the  reformation  ot  books  now  deemed 
inspired. 

"  Of  the  book  of  Daniel,  the  learned  Dr.  Ar- 
nold speaks,  '  I  have  long  tluuight  that  the 
greater  part  of  the  book  of  Daniel  is  iiK^st  cer- 


tho  reformation,  as  well  as  by  many  bishops,  !  tainl}'  a  very  late  work   of  tlu!  tinw  of  tlie 


])riests,  and  learned  commentators  of  these  lat- 
ter days. 

"Belsham  in  his  Ecidenre,  page  117,  d(i- 
clares  that, '  of  the  law  of  Moses,  that  which  is 
(jenuine  bears  but  a  small  proportion  to  that 
which  is  spurious.' 

"  The  celt.'brated  Bishop  ^Tsher  says  that  our 
present  Septuagint  is  a  spurious  copy  I  '  The 
Septuagint  translation  continually  adds  to, 
takes  from,  and  changers  the  II; '  rew  t(!Xt  at 
])leasure ;  the  original  translation  of  it  was 
lust  long  ago,  and  wliat  has  ever  since  gone  by 
that  name  is  a  spurious  ropi/,  abounding  in 
omissions,  additions,  and  alterations  of  the  He- 
brew text.' 

"  Origi^n,  the  first  learned  Chriatian  of  criti- 
cal abilitj',  doidtted  tlie  genuineness  of  the 
Ei)is»le  to  the  y/jj'^/v  ?/'.s%  tlie  sec(»nd  oi' Jantes, 
second  of  Peter,  second  and  third  of  JoJin  and 
Jude!  but  considered  the  bonk  of  Hernias  as 
insi)ired. 

"Luther,  the  apostle  of  the  reformation, 
doubtiMl  the  truthfulness  of  the  following 
scriptural  books,  namely :  Of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, Chronielcs,  Job,  Eerlesiast.s,  h'sthrr, 
and  Isaiah  ;  of  the  New,  Ilehreics,  Jauies,  Ja,d.e, 
and  Revelation.  We  shall  nuot(!  Luther's 
own  words  as  evidence.  He  says :  '  The 
books  of  the  Kings  are  more  worthy  of  credit 
than  the  books  of  the  Chronicles /  Job  sjiake 
not  thertsfore  as  it  stands  written  in  his  l)ook, 
but  hath  had  smdi  cogitatiims.  It  is  a  slieer 
allegory.  It  is  probable  that  Solomon  made 
and  wrote  this  book.  This  book,  I<](cle.nastes, 
oj^glit  to  have  been  more  full ;  there  is  too 
ranch  broken  matter  in  it ;  it  has  neither  boots, 
nor  spurs,  but  rides  only  in  socks,  as  I  myself 
when  in  the  cloister.  Solomon,  therefore,  hath 
not  written  this  book,  which  had  been  made  in 


.Maccabei^s  ;  and  the  pretended  pro])]iecy  of  the 
kings  of  Oreece  and  Persia,  and  of  tln^  north 
and  south  is  mere  history,  like  t!ie  jjoetical 
propli(H'ies  in  Virgil  and  elsewhere.  In  fact, 
you  can  distinctly  trace  the  date  when  it  was 
written,  because  the  events  up  to  that  date 
are  given  with  historical  minuteness,  totally 
unlike  the  character  of  real  prophecy,  and  be- 
yond that  date  all  is  imaginai'y.' 

"  What  a  pity  it  is  that  some  of  our  mad 
priests  do  not  take  the  s;ime  view  ;  our  semi- 
prophetic  lecturers  would  not  have  so  many 
'  rams'  and  '  he-goats'  ski])ping  through 
their  brains  and  scattering  their  Si'uses.  Ne- 
ander  also  took  the  same  view  of  tin;  book  of 
Daniel.  Doctors  Aitken  and  Eichhorn  have  re- 
pudiat(Hl  the  books  of  Jonah  and  Daniel  as 
mere  '  legends  and  ronianc(.'S.'  Doctor  Wins- 
ton denounced  the  Canticles  as '  forgeries;'  and 
many  other  of  onr  learned  priests,  who,  while 
accej)ting  certain  books  as  canonical,  yet  ad- 
mit that  they  contain  sjiurious  ]iassages,  inter- 
polations, false  translations,  sutlicient  to  mis- 
lead and  bewihh^r  the  multitude. 

"  I  would  ask.  how,  then,  is  it  possible  for  an 
'  unlearned'  man,  a  '  simple,  humble  believ- 
er,' to  'stand  fast  and  continue  in  the  faith,' 
surrounded  by  such  a  babel  of  opinions? 
The  (nily  way  he  can  do  so  is  by  resolut(.'ly 
.shutting  his  eyes  and  stopj)ing  his  ears,  de- 
t(,rmine(i  neitluT  to  hear  nor  see  any  thing 
lik(dy  to  produce  a  single  doubt;  he  must  be 
guided  entirely  by  he  advice  of  interested 
priests,  Avho  'aftecti(;nat(dy'  caution  against 
'  unbelief,'  and  then  threaten    '  that  he  that 


*  Dionypius,  Bishop  of  Aloxaiulria,  Erasmus,  Calvin, 
and  Zuiiigliud  altio  doubted  the  geuuiueueas  of  Kovcla- 
tion. 


112 


EXETER    HALL. 


Hi    II 


if. 


i 

yf    -v 

::^ 

ii 

belit'vcth  not  shall  bo  damned ;'  and  tins 
threat  is,  witli  thousands,  an  extinguisher  to 
investigation  ;  it  is  the  most  convincing  or- 
thodox argument. 

"  Now,  with  respect  to  the  books  included  in 
the  present  canon  of  the  Old  Testament, 
there  is  no  satisfactory  evidt'ueo  to  prove 
when,  or  wliero,  or  l)y  whom  tliey  were  writ- 
ten, or  in  what  language.  On  tlio  contrary, 
there  is  ulnindant  proof  to  show,  tluit  such  of 
those  books  as  bear  tlie  name  of  certain  au- 
thors were  never  written  by  such  persons. 
The  book  of  (Jenesis,  and  other  books  of  the 
Pentatcucli,  are  plainly  the  production  of  two 
or  more  persons.  (Jouesis  coiuains  two  con- 
flicting accounts  of  the  creation.  The  story 
of  tlic  deluge  is  twice  told  ;  the  relation  as  to 
how  Abraham  passed  off  Sarah  as  his  sister 
is  repeated  witli  discrepancies;  and  tlu;  cir- 
cumstance wliich  also  obligtid  Isaac  to  call 
his  wife  Rebecca  his  sister,  in  order  to  escape 
from  the  lust  of  Abimelech — evidently  the 
same  monarch  who,  by  one  of  the  accounts, 
aad  been  years  prtninusly  smitten  witli  tlu) 
beauty  of  Isaac's  mother — are  all  related  in 
the  same  book,  manifestly  confused  accounts 
of  the  same  legend. 

'"There  an;  also  two  conflicting  reasons 
given  tor  the  institution  of  the  t?al)batli,  and 
/(ft>  distinct  codt-s  of  the  ten  couiman<liufnts. 

"  Several  matters  recorded  in  tlu;  Pentateuch 
are  nearly  exact  fac-similes  of  the  mysteries 
of  the  Babyhmians.  The  creation  in  six 
days  is  a  perfect  copy  of  the  (liahans  of  Zoro- 
aetcr;  the  particulars  of  each  day's  work  are 
also  tlie  same.  The  story  of  the  seri)eiit  ami 
the  fail  was  long  famous  among  that  i)eoi)le. 
The  mythological  delug<;  of  Ogyges  is  just 
the  same  as  Noah's  tiood,  and  the  story  of 
Adam  and  Kvt!  in  paradise  is  a  nu're  copy  of 
Zoreasver's  first  pair.  The  Talmud  expressly 
declares  that  the  Jcnvs  l)orrowed  the  names 
of  the  angels,  and  even  tlieir  mcmths  from 
the  Biibylonians.* 

"  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  beli(>ve  that  the 
Bible  is  the  ohlest  book  ;  at  the  very  tinu^  we 
are  told  that  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  world, 
except  Noah  and  his  family,  were  drowned, 
the  Hindoos  existed  as  a  grrat  nation,  and 
Egy])t  and  Chimi  luid  their  h'anu'd  men 
— their  i)l;ilosoiihers,  their  architects,  their 
astrononu'rs,  and  historians ;  and  their  vast 
cities,  burdi;ued  with  an  overllowing  popula- 
tion. 

"So  palpable,  indeed,  are  these  facts,  that 
eminent,  Christian  writers  have  declared  their 
disbelief  in  the  authorship  of  such  a  person 
as  Mosefi.  St.  Jerome  confesses  that  he 
'  dares  not'  affirm  that  Moses  wrote  the 
Pentateucli,  but,  like  the  Talmudists,  he  as- 
cribes it  to  Ezra,  (Esdras.)  Sir  Isaac  Newton 
affirms,  that  it  was  neitl.er  Moses  nor  Ezra 
who  wrote  thte  five  books  but  Sanuud.  Lord 
Barrlngton  asserts  the  sanui.  The  Rev.  \V. 
Fox,  in  his  sermons,  i)ublislied  in  1819,  re- 
marks, 'That  tlie  early  part  of  (Jenesis  is  a 
compilation  of  anch-nt  docunu'nts,  and  not  the 
writiin/  of  MoscH  has  been  the  opinion  of  some 
of  the  most  al)le  divines  and  sincere  be- 
lievers.'     The  distinguished   Christian    i)ro- 

♦  See  "  Age  of  Reason,"  p.  13. 


fessor  Du  Pin  is  positive  that  '  we  are  not  cer- 
tainly assured  of  the  true  authors  of  most  of 
the  books  of  the  Old  Testanu'nt.'  These  are 
<mly  a  few  of  the  aflthorities  who  openly  dis- 
believe in  the  authorship  of  Moses.  Alnuist 
every  book  of  the  Biljle  h's  been  in  turn 
doubted  and  defended ;  and  while  Jewish 
rites  can  be  traced  to  a  more  ancient  hea- 
thenism, nearly  every  thing  of  Christianity 
is  of  Egyjitian  origin. 

"  It  would,'"  continued  Mr.  Mannors,  "be  a 
difficult  task  to  give,  within  the  limits  of  a 
single  lecture,  any  lengthened  n^view  of  the 
other  books  of  the  Old  Testament.  We  shall 
merely  say,  that  .several  o'f  them  are  mostly 
occujued  with  trifling  details  of  silly  observ- 
ances, by  no  means  edifying.  Kings  and 
Clironicles  contradict  each  other  in  almost 
every  chapter ;  while  other  books  are  but 
such  accounts  of  atrocity,  debauchery,  and 
gross  indecency  as  to  make  humanity  shud- 
d(!r  and  shock  all  delicacy  and  refinement. 
Any  other  book  but  that  called  the  '  Holy 
Bible,'  cnntaining  such  abominable  records, 
would  be  stamped  forever  as  infamous.  Yet, 
wonder  of  wonders!  though  a  great  number 
of  the.we  'inspired  texts,'  are  too  impure  to 
be  read  or  cpioted  from  pulpit  or  desk,  or 
even  breathed  to  'ears  polite.'  Christian 
priests  will  still  uidiold  the  imposition,  and 
jiositively  tell  us  that  every  ironl  was  writ- 
ten for  oHr  improvement  I  Who  can  truly 
believe  tliisV 

"But  then  we  are  vaunt  ingly  pointed  to  scrip- 
tural miracles  and  ])ro]>hecies  as  a  glorious 
ri'futation  of  the  slanders  of  unbelief.  In 
lv)astiiig  of  such  evidences,  Christianity  but 
follows  the  practice  .of  far  more  ancient  super- 
stitions. IJcligious  imposture  in  every  rgo 
fortified  itself  with  magic  and  miracles  to  over- 
come doubt  and  opposition  ;  and  with  pro[)h(  - 
cies  which  were  as  clearly  and  often  mon;  in- 
telligiblv  fulfillnd  than  anv  that  the  Bible  can 
yet  claim.  Prophets  have  been  a  proliiic  lace, 
th(>  raving  and  incoherent  drc'amcrs  ami  (.-n 
thu.'iiasts  of  ancient  and  modern  times.  Docs 
not  even  the  Bible  admit  that  some  ot  its 
prophetn  were  false  and  lying,  ami  drunken 
men,  who  'diviiu'd  for  money,'  and  wi're  jeal- 
ous, of  each  other's  success ;  who  became  as 
often  '  iusiiired'  thnnighthe  infiuenceof  \vine, 
or  music,  or  dancing  as  they  did  by  the  iiis.iue 
idea  which  governed  their  feei)le  mini's  V 
^licah,  ;id  chajjter,  speaks  of  proidiets  who 
'  divined  for  nu)ney,'  but  modestly  sjieaks  of 
himself  as  being  '  full  of  power.'  Jeremiah 
in  second  chapter,  I'lth  of  Lamentations,  says, 
'Thy  i)ro])hets  have  seen  vain  and  foolish 
things. '  Isaiah,  in  chai)ters{)th  and  2Sth,  that 
they  'teach  lies'  and  are  'drunken.'  These 
passages  do  not  particularly  refer  to  foreign  or 
lieathen  wandt^rers,  but  to  the  recognized  'for- 
tune-tidlers' of  the  time.  (Jeremiah  20  :  7.)  As 
a  i)roph(?t,  he  complains,  '  O  Lord  !  thou  hast 
deceived  me,  and  1  was  deceived  :'  and  in  the 
14th  chapter  of  E/.ekiel,  "^th  verso,  God  himself 
is  made  to  say,  And  if  the  prophet  be  deceived 
when  he  hath  spoken  a  thing, '  /  the  Lord  hnve 
deceived  that  prophet.'  Comment  on  such  pro- 
phets and  on  such  a  deity  would  occupy  too 
much  of  our  time  at  present.  While  we  have 
but  just  shown  that  many  of  the  leading  Chris- 


EXETER    HALL. 


113 


are  not  cer- 

of  most  of 

Those  are 

openly  (lis- 

8.       AlllKLSt 

n  ill  turn 
ile  Jewish 
icicnt   hen- 

hristiauity 

lors,  "  be  a 
liuiits  of  a 
.'iewof  tile 

We  sliiill 
are  mostly 
lly  oliserv- 
vings    ami 

in  almost 
8  are  l)iit 
hery,  niid 
mity  bIuuI- 
efinenient. 
he  '  Holy 
le  records, 
lous.  Y»'t, 
at  number 
impure  to 
r  desk,  or 

('liri>.tian 
sition,  and 

was  writ- 
can   truly 

ed  toscrip- 
a  glorious 
l)erief.     In 
ianity  but 
lent  sujx^r- 
every  i;go 
<,'S  to  over- 
ith  projilK  - 
n  moiT'  in- 
J  Uililc  can 
'olilic  lacr, 
rs  and  en 
ics.     Docs 
ruiui  ol  its 
I  druuki-n 
were  jfiil- 
hecaiHc  as 
ccof  \\mv, 
tin'  iiis.uie 
e    miuilsV 
hets   who 
sjieaks  of 
Jeremiah 
ions,  says, 
id    fixiUsli 
28th,  that 
1.'     Tli.so 
forei<rn  or 
nized  'for- 
20:7.)  As 
thou  hast 
,nd  in  the 
)d  himself 
e  deceived 
Lord  have 
I  such  pro- 
iccupy  too 
0  wo  liave 
ing  ChriB- 


tian  priests  had  no  confidence  ih  the  assorted 
proi)hecie8  of  Isaiah,  Daniel,  and  Jonah,  we 
iind  that  others  of  them,  such  as  Dr.  Keith  and 
Bishop  Newton,  have  wajled  through  a  vast 
mass  of  useless  learning,  to  try  and  establish 
the  fultillmcnt  of  certain  prophecit^  ;  yet  it  is 
now  fairly  proved  that  the  greater  number  of 
Biich  predictions  have  failed.  It  has  also  been 
placed  beyond  doubt  that  many  of  the  so- 
called  prophecies  w<^re  written  after  the  event 
happened  to  which  they  related  ;  while  others 
have  been  singularly  falsified. 

"  But  what  of  the  famous  prophecy  regard- 
ing the  coming  of  the  Messiah?  We  reply  that 
no  part  of  Scripture  has  been  more  unfairly 
twisted  to  accommodate  the  desire  of  j)riests 
than  that  which  it  is  said  relates  to  such  an 
event.  We  can'uow  only  notice  the  principal 
prediction  in  Isaiah,  which  some  tell  us  is 
beyond  all  cavil: 

"  The  kings  of  Israel  and  Sy  ■a,having  united 
in  a  war  against  the  king  of  ^  udah,  the  latter 
was  much  alarmed,  but  the  prophet  Isaiah  as- 
sured him  that  they  should  not  succ(!ed  against 
him.  The  Lord  told  the  king  to  '  ask  a  sign,' 
but  the  king  declined,  stating  that  he  would 
not '  tempt  the  Lord.'     Isaiah  then  said : 


'"Thpreforc  the  Lord  himself  sliall  Rive  you  a 
Bi;;n :  Beliold,  a  virgin  shall  coiicelvo  and  bear  a  fon. 
and  shall  call  liis  iiaino  Iinmanuc! ;  forbctbru  the  child 
ishall  know  how  to  rellii-e  the  evil  and  choo>>(!  the  good, 
the  land  that  thou  abhon-est  shall  be  Ibrsakcu  of  both 
her  kings.'    Isaiah  7 :  1  l-lti. 


"  This,  then,  was  the  sign  promised  to  assure 
the  king  of  Judah  of  his  ultimate  success 
over  the  two  who  had  conspin.'d  against  him  ; 
and,  in  order  to  secure  the  fulfillment  of  this 
'prophecy.'  we  are  told  in  ♦he  very  next  chap- 
ter, 3d  verse,  that  Isaiah  himself  got  a  ])ro- 
phetess  svith  child,  and  that  she  afterward 
Itaro  a  son.  This  is  an  abridgment  of  the  ab- 
surd story,  and  had  no  more  reference  to  Jesus, 
who  is  said  to  have  appeared  several  hundred 
years  afterward,  than  it  had  to  Ciesur  or 
Peter  the  (Jniat. 

"  The  assurance  of  success  which  Isaiah 
gave  to  tlie  king  of  Jndah  jiroved,  however, 
that  Isaiah  himself  was  one  of  the  '  lying'  pro- 
phets ;  for,  in  the  2d  book  of  Ohronides,  cluip- 
ter  28,  it  is  recorded  that,  instead  of  the  two 
hostile  kings  binng  overwhelmed,  Ahaz  was 
completely  defeatwl ;  the  usual  godly  slaugh- 
ter of  one  hundred  and  twenty  tliousand  of 
his  people  having  taken  place  in  one  day, 
followed  by  the  captivity  of  two  hundred 
thousand  women,  with  theii  sons  and  daugh- 
ters: so  much  for  the  infallibility  of  Isaiah. 

"  Several  enlightened  Christians  are  inclined 
to  abandon  this  once  favorite  ])rophecy  as  un- 
tenable. Michaelis,  the  learncvl  Christian  pro- 
fessor, p.  212,  says,  ho  '  can  not  bo  persuaded 
that  tlio  famous  prophecy  in  Isaiah,  chaiiter 
T.  verse  14,  has  the  lea.'-t  reference  to  the  Mes- 
siah.' The  church  has  been  sorely  troubled 
to  get  rid  of  the  ditficulties  arising  from  the 
alleged  prophecies  relating  to  Christ.  Whis- 
ton,  the  successor  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  as 
mathematical  professor,  published  a  book  to 
l)rovo  that  in  early  times  the  Jews  had  al- 
tered the  passages  of  tho  Old  Testament  re- 
ferred to  as  prophetic  of  Christ.  If  such  were 
fwlly  the  case,  the  Old  Testament  could  not 


be  relied  on  in  any  particular.      Winston's 
theory  was,  however,  much  approved  of,  until 
an  actual  comparison  with  the  ancient  Jewish 
Scriptures  proved  them  to  be  alike  in  their  pnv 
dictions.     Dr.  Arn(dd  tried  to  avoid  the  pro- 
phetic difficulty  by  saying, '  We  find  through- 
out tho  New  Testament  references  made  to 
various  passages  in  the  Old  Testament  which 
are  alleged  as  prophetic  of  C'hrist,  or  of  some 
particulars    of    tho    Christian    dispensation. 
Now,  if  we  turn  to  the  context  of  these  passa- 
ges, and  so  endeavor  to  discover  their  mean- 
ing according  to  the  only  sound  principles  of 
int.  rpretaiion,  it  will  often  appear  that  they 
do  not  relate  to   the    Messiah  or  to  (Chris- 
tian times,  but  are  either  expressions  of  reli- 
gious affections  generally  ;  or  else  refer  to  some 
particular  circumstances  in  the  life  and  condi- 
tion of  the  writer  or  of  the  Jewish  nation, 
and  do  not  at  all  show  that  any  thing  more 
remote,  or  any  events  of  a  more  universal  and 
spiritual  character,  were  designed  to  be  pro- 
phesied.       Every   prophecy,  as   uttered    by 
man,  (that  is,  by  an   intelligent  and    not  a 
mere   mechanical    instrumenc, )    and  at    the 
same  time  as  insjiired  by  God,  must,  as  far  as 
appears,  have  a  double  sense— one,  the  sense 
entertained  by  the  human  mind  of  the  writtT  ; 
the  other,  the  sense  infused  into  it  by  God. 
We  may  even  suppose  the  prophet  to  be  total- 
ly  ignorant  of   the  divine  meaning  of   his 
words,  and  to  intend  to  express  a  meaning  of 
his  own,  quite  unlike  God  s  meaning.'    This 
reasoning  «)f  the  learned  and  pious  Dr.  Arnold 
in   favor  of  a  'double   sense'    to   firophecy, 
and  to  assume  that  prophets  did  not  know  tho 
meaning  of  their  own  words,  is  very  like  tak- 
ing leave  of  common  sense  altogether.     The 
doctor  further  says,  '  Generally  the  language 
of  prophecy  will  be  found  to  bo  hyperbolical, 
as  far  as  regards  its  historical  subjects,  and 
only  corresponding  with  the  truth  exactly  if 
ice  stihxtitute  for  tlie  historical  subject  the  idea 
of  tohirh  it  is  the  representatiee.    It  will  be 
found,  I  think,  a  general  rule  in  all  the  pro- 
phecies of  Scripture,  that  they  contain  expres- 
sions which  will  only  be  adequately  fulfilled 
in  their  last  and  spiritual  fulfillment ;  and  that 
as  applied   to  the  lower  fulfillments,  which 
precede  this,   they  are  and  must  be  hvper- 
bolical.' 

"  Upon  this,  Greg  remarks, '  It  is  difficult  to 
grnpple  with  a  mode  of  interpretation  such  as 
this;  equally  difficult  to  comprehend  how  an 
earnest  and  practical  understanding  like  Dr. 
Arnold's  could,  for  a  moment,  rest  satisfied 
with  such  a  cloudy  phantom.  Our  homely 
conceptions  can  make  nothing  of  an  oracle 
which  says  one  thing  but  means  something 
very  diti'erent  and  more  noble ;  which,  in  de- 
nouncing icith  minute  details  destruction 
against  Egypt,  Babylon,  ancj  Tyre,  merely 
threatens  final  defeat  to  the  powers  of  evil ; 
which,  in  depicting,  in  precisest  terms,  the  ma- 
terial prosperity  reserved  for  the  Israelites, 
only  intended  to  promise  blessings  to  the  vir- 
tuous and  devout  of  every  ago  and  clime  ;  and 
which,  in  describing  ancient  historical  per- 
sonages, did  so  always  with  an  arriere  pense& 
toward  Christ.  If  Dr.  Arnold  means  to  say 
th.it  the  Old  Testament  prophecies  signified, 
jvimarily,  chiefiy,  and  most  specifically  the 
ultimate  triumph  of  good  over  evil — of  God 


.;^ 


■f""'. 


I. 


i1  ti'lS 


lU 


EXETER    HALL. 


•  -%<»..  f 

'     LIZ'    ' 

-'     w  t   ' 


'       i 


and  virtue  over  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the 
devil,  (and  this  certainly  appear*  to  be  his 
meaning) — we  can  only  reply  that,  in  that 
case,  they  are  poetry  and  not  i)rediction.  To 
conceive,  therefore,  this  to  be  the  meaning  of 
the  God  who  is  alleged  to  have  inspired  them 
18  to  imagine  that  he  used  incompetent  and  de- 
ceptive instruments  for  his  communications ; 
and  it  is  certain  that,  had  the  prophecies  been 
perfectly  and  unquestionably  fulfilled  in  their 
obvious  sense,  the  secondary  and  recondite  sig- 
nification would  never  have  been  heard  of.' 

"  The  double  meaning  which  Christian 
priests  have  advocated  for  Bible  prophecies  is 
just  Avhat  they  have  so  often  condemned  in  the 
pagan  oracles— it  was  away  of  escape  for  the 
sibyl  or  prophet.  In  endeavoring  to  make 
the  so-called  prophecies  applicable,  some  of 
the  gi-eatest  minds  have  b(!Come  puerile  and 
prostrated.  Some  have  boldly  asserted  that 
the  prophecies  are  '  plain  and  explicit ;'  but  Sir 
Isaac  Newton,  who  was  a  believer,  states  that 
*  God  gave  these,  (revelations,)  and  the  prophe- 
cies of  the  Old  Testament  not  to  satisfy  men's 
curiosity  by  enabling  them  to  foreknow 
things,  but  that,  after  they  were  fulfilled,  they 
might  be  interpreted  by  "  the  event."  '  Hittel 
says,  'Sir  Isaac  thus  admits  that  the  biblical 
prophecies  furnish  no  evidence  of  the  truth  of 
the  Scriptures  or  of  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus  ; 
for  a  prophecy  which  does  not  enable  men  to 
foreknow  things,  but  which  is  to  be  inter- 
preted by  "  the  event''  is  a  pitiful  affair,  in  no 
way  superior  to  the  predictions  "of  the  hea- 
then oracles.'  " 

"  In  his  discourse,  page  31,  Bishop  Sherlock 
says, '  That  many  of  the  latter  prophecies  are 
Btill  da)'k  and  obneure,  and  so  far  from  evi- 
dently belonging  to  Clirist  and  Christ  only 
that  it  requires  much  learning  and  sagacity 
to  show,  even  now,  the  connection  between 
some  prophecies  and  the  events.' 

"  The  Jews,  who  should  best  understand  their 
own  book,  have  ever  denied  the  application 
of  the  prophecy  to  Jesus.  They  charge  the 
Christians,  in  order  to  accomplish  their  pur- 
poses, with  having  '  changed  in  the  original 
nouns,  verbs,  tenses,  and  meanings.'  In  a 
work  called  Israel  Vindicated  they  say, '  These 
prophecies  have  repeatedly  been  shown  by  our 
rabbins  to  have. a  differcLt  meaning  from  that 
given  them  by  the  Christians,  which  it  is  im- 
possible for  any  one  to  mistake  whose  mind 
is  nf)t  predisposed  to  shut  out  the  light  of 
truth.' 

"  That  the  Jewish  imputation  against  Chris- 
tian piiests,  of  having  '  changed  in  the  origi- 
nal nouns,  verbs,  tenses,  and  meanings,'  was 
not  undeserved  or  unjust,  we  shall  show  from 
the  words  of  the  great  commentator,  Doctor 
Adam  Clarke.  Speaking  of  the  quotations  usu- 
ally made  from  the  Old  Testament,  he  says, 
that  many  of  them '  are  accommodated'  to  the 
New  Testament  story,  '  their  own  historical 
meaning  being  difterent,  may  be  innocently 
credited  ;  but  lot  it  always  bo  remembered 
that  these  accommodati(m8  are  made  by  the 
same  8])irit  by  which  the  Psalms  were  origi- 
nally given.  Many  passages  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament seem  to  be  thus  quoted  (as  predictions) 
in  the  New.  And  often  the  words  a  little 
altered  and  the  meaning  extended,  to  make 
them  suitable  to  existing  circumstances.'    If 


this  is  not  a  palpable  evidence  of  pious  fraud, 
we  wonder  where  a  plainer  one  can  be  found. 
Words  actually  'altered'  and  their  meaning 
'  extended '!  The  doctor,  '  innocently '  how- 
ever, places  the  burden  on  the  '  spirit ;'  that  is 
the  8i)irit  which  first  directed  tlie  propliet 
to  say,  white  should  afterward  influence  the 
transcriber  or  translator  to  say  black  f 

We  can  not  in  the  present  aiscourse  refer  any 
further  to  the  prophecies  ;  another  opportunity 
may  be  oftl-red  for  that  purpose.  It  has  been  said 
that  prophecy  is  '  prose  run  mad,'  and  it  ie 
plain  tha^,  its  study  has  greatly  distracted  the 
reasoning  powers  of  some  devout  thinkers. 
What  erratic  fulfilments  have  learned  priests 
extracted  from  the  prophetic  word!  The 
Pope,  and  Luther,  and  Napoleon  have  each  in 
turn  been  made  to  stand  godfather  to  the  wild 
creations  of  Daniel ;  and  lesser  lights,  such 
as  John  Hawkins,  Esq.,  prove  that  Britain  is 
the  kingdom  which,  according  to  Daniel,  God 
will  set  up!  Captain  Maitland  illustrates 
Daniel  by  Revelation!  J.  H.  Frero  proves 
that  Daniel,  Esdras,  and  St.  John  found  their 
accomplishment  in  Bonaparte !  and  the  ex- 
king  of  Sweden  asserts  that  Bonaparte  is  the 
beast  of  Kevelation  !  Dr.  Winston,  professor 
of  mathematics  at  Cambridge,  of  whom  we 
have  s])oken,  believed  that  the  bringing  forth 
of  rabbits  by  one  Mary  Tofts,  according  to 
the  then  popular  delusion,  was  the  accom- 
plishment of  a  prophecy  in  Esdras !  and  among 
many  others  at  the  present  day,  we  have  a 
Cumming,  or  a  Bagster,  who,  in  silly  lectures 
or  in  prosy  pamphlets,  opens  the  '  seven  vials,' 
or  wrestle  with  '  the  beast  with  seven  heads,' 
or  with  the  '  red  dragon,'  or  marches  with 
triumphant  pace  to  the  great  battle  of  Arma- 
geddon ;  we  all  know  that  these  tedious  ex- 
positions, so  far,  have  been  about  as  lucid  as 
that  of  a  certain  Irish  legislator,  who,  while 
in  a  supposed  state  of  derangement,  insisted 
that  Armageddon  really  meant  Armagh, '  be- 
cause in  the  apocalyptic  version  something 
is  incidentally  said  about ^HC  linen.'  It  truly 
seems  that  one  is  about  as  near  the  mark  as 
the  other.  We  shall  finish  our  i)re8cnt  remarks 
on  prophecy  by  a  brief  quotation  from  that 
greatly  traduced,  but  noble  and  benevolent 
man,  'Thomas  Paine. 

"  '  According  to  the  modern  meaning  of  the 
word  prophet,  and  prophesying,  it  signifies 
foretelling  events  to  a  great  distance  of 
time  ;  and  it  became  necessary  to  the  in- 
ventors of  the  Gospel  to  give  it  this  lati- 
tude of  meaning,  in  order  to  apply  or  to 
to  stretch  what  tlicy  call  the  prophecies  of  the 
Old  Testament  to  the  times  of  the  New  ;  but, 
according  to  the  Old  Testament,  the  prophesy 
ing  of  the  seer,  and  afterward  of  the  prophet, 
so  far  as  the  meaning  of  the  word  seer  was 
incorporated  into  that  of  prophet,  had  refer- 
ence only  to  things  of  the  time  then  passing, 
or  very  closely  connected  with  it ;  such  as  the 
event  of  a  battle  they  were  going  to  engage 
in,  or  of  a  journey,  or  of  any  enterprise  they 
were  going  to  undertake,  or  of  any  circum 
stance  then  pending,  or  of  any  difiiculty  they 
were  then  in ;  all  of  which  had  immediate  re- 
ference to  themselves,  (as  in  the  case  already 
mentioned  of  Ahaz  and  Isaiah,  with  respect  to 
the  expression.  Behold  a  virgin  nhall  conceive, 
and  bear  a  son,)  and  not  to  any  distant  future 


EXETER   HALL. 


US 


time.  It  was  that  kind  of  prophesyinjj  that 
corresponds  to  wliat  wo  call  fortunc-tcflling ; 
such  a8  casting  nativities,  predicting  riclu's, 
fortunuto  or  unfortunate  marriages,  conjuring 
for  lost  goods,  etc.  1  and  it  is  the  fraud  of  tlie 
CkriiUaa  church,  not  that  of  the  Jems;  aad 
the  ignorance  and  the  superstition  of  modern, 
not  that  of  ancient  times,  that  elevated  those 
poetical,  musical,  conjuring,  dreaming,  stroll- 
ing gentry  into  the  rank  thcv  have  since 
had.' 

"  Those  who  have  leisure  will  find  jjriestly 
speculations  on  prophecy  a  very  amusing 
study. 

CHAPTER  XXir. 

"  The  New  Testament  is  said  to  contain  the 
last  written  revelation  from  God  to  man.  It 
now  includes  but  twenty-seven  separate  tracts, 
called  books.  Formerly,  as  was  stated,  there 
were  a  great  many  more,  over  fifty  ditt'erent 
gospels  having  been  received  at  one  period  ; 
but  as  it  seems  that  various  degrees  of  inspi- 
ration were  imparted  to  certain  contending 
councils,  who  undertook  to  make  a  selection, 
the  books  comidered  necessary  for  man's  sal- 
vation were,  as  we  have  shown,  very  prudent- 
ly reduced  to  the  present  number. 

"  Among  the  principal  books  of  the  New 
Testament  are  the  four  gospels,  said  to  have 
been  written  by  the  persons  whose  names  they 
bear ;  but  for  tliis,  there  is  no  evidence  what- 
ever, neither  can  it  be  shown  when,  or  where, 
or  at  what  time  thev  were  written  ;  there  is 
not  an  original  manuscript  of  any  of  them  in 
existence,  nor  can  it  be  i)roved  that  any  such 
were  seen  during  the  first  century  ;  *  and 
it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  Christ  himself,  the 
real  hero  of  the  New  Testament,  never  wrote 
a  line  of  it ;  all  we  have  of  his  reputed  acts  or 
sayings  is  mere  hearsay.  Tliese  gosi>el3,  how- 
ever, profess  to  give  a  true  history  of  the 
birth,  life,  and  death  of  the  Christian  Saviour  ; 
and  so  much  has  been  said  as  to  their  entire 
harmony,  as  synoptical  records,  that  one  is 
amazed  in  discovering  how  widely  tliey  difler 
where  it  is  presumed  they  ought  to  be  in  per- 
fect agreement. 

"  Matthew  commences  by  giving  the  gene- 
alogy of  Christ  from  David  up  l,lirougli  Jo- 
sepli,  the  husband  nf  Mary,  and  makes  twenty- 
six  generations  ;  Luke  also  gives  a  genealogy 
from  Christ  through  Joseph  down  to  David, 
the  same  i)rogenitor,  but  records  forty-three 
generations,  through  a  ditt'erent  line  of  ances- 
try. Now,  if  Matthew  was  right,  Luke  must 
have  been  wrong ;  and  as  eciuul  inspiration 
has  been  claimed  for  both,  if  one  is  wrong, 
both  may  be  wrong. 

"  The  annunciation  is  not  mentioned  in  the 
gospels  ascribed  to  Mark  and  John,  but  is 
differently  related  in  Matthew  and  Luke.  The 
former  says,  that  the  angel  appeared  to  Joseph, 
the  latter  that  it  was  to  Mury  ! 

"  Matthew  alone  mentions  any  thing  concern- 
ing the  destruction  of  the  children  by  Herod  ; 
upon  tliis  important  matter,  the  other  Gospels 
are  singularly  silent ;  no  historian  of  the  day 
makes  the  slightest  allusion  to  such  a  circum- 

*  Tho  oldest  we  ucw  have  arc  of  the  fifth  century. 


stance  ;  neither  does  Josophus  (and  ho  wouM 
not  have  spared  Herod)  say  a  word  about 
such  a  cruel  act.  There  is  no  proof  that  such 
a  slaughter  by  Herod  ever  took  place,  and  the 
story  has  been  pronounced  apocryphal.  An 
atrocity  of  this  kind  would  have  caused  a 
great  sensation,  and  would  have  been  noticed 
bv  historians.  Sir  William  Jones,  in  his 
Vhristian  Theism,  page  84,  gives  reason 
for  believing  that  tho  whole  story  is  probably 
of  Hindoo  origin,*  and  Greg  says,  '  Luke  8 
account  entirely  precludes  the  sojourn  in 
Egypt.  Ho  sayfj  that  eiyht  days  after  tho 
birth  of  Jesus  he  was  circumcised,  onA  forty 
days  afterward  he  was  presented  in  the  tem- 
ple, and  that  when  these  legal  ceremonies 
were  accomplished,  he  went  with  his  parents 
to  Nazareth.'  There  is  a  strange  discrepancy 
between  Matthew  and  Luke  as  to  where  Joseph 
and  Mary  originally  lived.  Luko  says  they 
lived  at  Nazareth  before  the  birth  of  Jesus, 
Matthew  declares  they  did  not  reside  there  un- 
til after  that  event. 

'•  Matthew,  in  particular,  has  been  noted  for  a 
tendency  to  '  accommodate,'  or  find  in  Jesus 
the  fulfillment  of  supposed  prophecies ;  and  to 
'alter'  and  'extend'  words  and  meanings 
for  that  purpose.  To  effect  this,  he  has  nar- 
rated circumstances  respecting  which  the 
other  evangelists  remain  silent.  His  repeated 
expressions,  '  That  it  might  be  fulfilled,'  '  For 
it  is  written,'  and  others  of  a  similar  kind, 
were  used  to  adduce  passages  which  had  no 
possible  reference  or  application  to  Jesus,  but 
merely  to  show  the  dogmatic  purpose  of  the 
writer ;  and  we  have  already  shown  that  emi- 
nent Christian  men  do  L3t  accept  such  appli- 
cation. 

"  At  the  birth  of  ChrLst,  Matthew  tells  us 
(chapter  2)  that  wise  men  came  from  the  East 
to  worship  him,  and  were  directed  by  a  star  ; 
Luko  states  (chapter  2)  that  they  were  but 
shepfierds  from  a  field,  led  by  an  angel/ 

"  Matthew  (chapter  8,  verse  5)  informs  us 
that  a  centurion  c&nie  personally  to  Jesus,  and 
begged  him  to  heal  a  servant ;  Luke  (chapter 
7)  says  that  the  centurion  did  not  go  himself, 
but  sent  '  elders  of  the  Jews '  to  request  the 
fcvor! 

"  Matthew's  frequent  amplification,  or  rather 
multiplication,  is  quite  apparent.  In  chapter 
eight,  he  gives  an  account  of  the  healing  of 
two  furious  demoniacs  whoso  unclean  spirits 
entered  r.  herd  of  swine ;  but  Mark  and  Luke 

*  Many  centuries  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  the  Hin- 
doo scriptures  contained  tlic  followinj;  legend  con- 
nected with  the  incarnation  of  Chrlshuu,  the  favorite 
god  or  "  saviour  "  of  India : 

Chrishnu,  a  god-begotten  child,  was  the  son  of  Vish- 
nu, the  principal  god  of  the  Hindoo  Trinity,  by  a  wo- 
man named  Uevakl,  the  wife  of  Vasudova.  Shortly 
before  the  birth  of  Chrishnu,  a  mighty  demon  called 
iianga,  being  apprised  that  a  child  would  be  born  that 
was  forever  to  overthrow  his  power,  summoned  his 
chief,  Asuras,  and  ordered;  "Let  active  search  be 
made  for  whatever  young  cidldren  there  may  be  upon 
the  earth,  and  let  every  boy  of  unusual  vigor  be  slain 
without  remorse." 

The  sacred  child,  Chrishnu,  was,  however,  saved  by 
Naucla,  a  cowherd,  whose  wife  had  a  child  of  the  same 
age  called  Kama,  or  Bala  Rama,  and  spoken  of  as  the 
brother  of  Chrishnu. 

This  very  ancient  legend  was,  it  is  said,  derived  by 
the  Hindoos  Itom  a  tradition  still  more  remote,  and 
is,  no  doubt,  one  of  those  upon  which  is  most  certainly 
founded  the  myth  of  Uerod's  slaughter  uf  the  iuuo* 
cents. 


ii 


116 


EXETER    HALL. 


^ 


W'v'V 


^.nf 


say  thoro  wan  only  one  demoninr.  TliiaVtory, 
however,  i»  one  of  tlie  moHt  wretched  Bcriptii- 
ral  nbRurditius,  and  lia8  ciiHt  n  litaven  of  duubt 
into  the  mind  of  many  a  believer. 

"  In  the  twentieth  ciiapter  of  Matthew,  there 
18  tlio  rejKjtition  of  a  miracle  related  in  the 
ninth  cliapter,  givinjf  rii^ht  to  ttfio  blind  men 
near  Jericho;  bui  Mark (10th) and  Luke (18th) 
mention  the  cure  of  only  one  blind  man,  and 
only  on  one  occasion. 

"  Matthew  and  Mark  pfive  tico  variable  ac- 
counts of  the  feedinijof  the  multitude;  while 
Luke  and  John  tell  of  but  one  feeding'.  Mat- 
thew (chapter  14)  says  there  were  about  Jive 
thousand  men,  besides  women  and  children, 
and  only  'live  loaves  and  two  fishes,'  and  that 
after  all  had  been  fed,  twelve  basketfuls  ro- 
r<;muined.  In  the  next  chapter,  he  repeats  the 
mirach; — four  thousand  men,  *  besides  women 
and  children,'  were  then  fed  ;  there  were 'seven 
loaves  and  a  few  little  fishes,'  and  seven  bas- 
ketsfiil  remained.  Neither  Mark  nor  Luke 
sjiy  there  were  any  '  women  and  children  ;' 
and  many  commentators  believe  that  there 
•was  but  one  feeding  of  a  multitude. 

"  According  to  Mattliew,  Mark,  and  Luke, 
Jesus, '  immediately  '  after  liis  baptism  in  the 
Jordan,  '  was  led  (or  driven)  by  the  spirit  into 
the  wilderness,'  where  he  remained  forty 
days  '  tempted  of  the  devil.'  This  is  truly 
one  of  the  most  improbable  stories  in  the  New 
Testament ;  even  John  the  evangelist  must 
have  disbelieved  it,  for  his  gospel  altogether 
excludes  such  a  conference.  John,  in  his  first 
and  second  chapters,  gives  a  positive  contradic- 
tion to  the  narrative,  lie  btales  that  on  the 
first  day  after  the  baptism,  Jesus  remained  with 
John,  (the  baptist ;)  that  he  conversed  on  the 
second  day  with  Peter ;  that  he  attended  the 
marriage  of  Cana  on  the  third  day  ;  after  that, 
he  went  to  Capernaum,  and  afterward  to  the 
passover  at  Jerusalem  ;  leaving  it  therefore 
impossible  for  Jesus  to  Ixavebeen  at  all  in  the 
wilderness,  even  for  a  single  day ! 

"  At  the  baptism  of  Christ,  John '  bare  record ' 
of  him,  and  '  saw  the  spirit  like  a  dove  de- 
scend upon  him,'  heard  the  recognition  of  his 
rtonship  in  a  voice  from  heaven, '  and,  looking 
upon  Jesus  as  he  walked,  he  (JoJin)  saith, 
Behold  the  lamb  of  God !'  Yet,  strange  to 
say,  shortly  afterward  —  Matthew,  chapter  11, 
Luke,  chapter  7 — the  very  same  John,  when 
in  prison, '  sent  disciples '  to  Jesus  to  learn 
whether  he  was  the  true  Messiah !  '  Art  thou 
ho  that  should  come,  or  look  we  for  another  V 
Much  priestly  ingenuity  has  been  used  to 
sliield  John  the  Baptist  from  inferred  oblivi- 
ousress,  but  the  record  is  too  plain. 

"  We  must  overlook  numerous  other  discre- 
pancies—we shall  not  have  time  to  examine 
them  on  this  occasion — and  we  will  only  refer 
at  present  to  those  relating  to  the  crucifixion, 
and  to  subsequent  events  recorded  by  the 
apostles. 

"  When  Christ  was  brought  to  execution, 
Matthew  says,  '  They  gave  him  vinegar  to 
drink,  mingled  with  gall ;'  Mark  says, '  Wine, 
mingled  with  myrrh !' 

"  Matthew  affirms  that  the  two  thieves  who 
were  crucified  with  Christ  reviled  him  at  the 
time ;  Luke  writes  that  but  one  '  malefactor  ' 


I  did  BO,  and  was  rebuked  by  the  other  for  w 
'  doing  I 

'•  The  four  evangelists  differ  as  to  the  exact 
words  of  the  8Ui)eiHcription  on  the  crofse. 

"  The  discrepancies  resptrtinjf  JuiUu  are  re- 
markable. According  to  Matthew,  (27th 
chapter)  Judas  repented,  retitnitd  the  thirty 
ineces  of  silver,  and  then  hung  himself;  and 
that  the  priests  took  the  money  and  bo^ight 
the  potter's  field  with  it. 

"Acts  1  :  18  implies  that  Judas  did  not  re- 
pent, that  he  did  not  return  the  money,  tliat  he 
was  not  hung;  but  states  that  he  •purchased 
tt  field  with  the  reward  of  iniquity,  and  fall- 
ing headlong,  he  burst  asunder  in' the  midst, 
and  all  his  bowtsls  gushed  out !' 

"  Mattliew  relates  that  extraordinary  occur- 
rences tcMjk  place  immediately  after  the  death 
of  Christ.  '  The  vail  of  the  temple  was  rent  in 
twain,  the  earth  did  qnake,  the  rdcka  rent, 
graves  were  opened,  bodies  of  tlie  snirts 
wliich  slept  arose  and  came  out  of  the  gravt^s 
after  his  resurrection,  and  went  into  the  holy 
city,  and  appeared  unto  many.'  What  a  fear- 
ful time,  and  what  dreadful  appearances  t 
All  quite  public!  Yet  Matthew  alone  makes 
such  a  record.  No  other  writer  of  the  New 
Testament  makes  any  allusion  to  such  an 
earthquake  or  opening  of  graves. 

"  The  account  is  very  confused.  Verse  53  of 
the  27th  chapter  leads  us  to  believe,  that  the 
dead  arose  and  appeared  on  the  very  day  of 
the  crucifixion,  but  the  next  verse  says,  that 
they  came  out  of  their  graves  '  after  the  re- 
surrection.' These  etatements  are  admitted 
to  be  irreconcilable,  (ireg  says,  '  There  can, 
wo  think,  remain  little  doubt  in  unprepossess- 
ed minds  that  the  whole  legend  was  one  of 
those  intended  to  magnify  and  honor  Christ, 
which  were  current  in  great  numbeis  at  the 
time  when  Matthew  wrote,  and  which  he, 
with  the  usual  want  of  discrimination  and 
somewhat  omnivorous  tendency  which  distin- 
g-uished  him  as  a  compiler,  admitted  into  his 
gospel.  '* 

"  When  Christ  was  put  into  the  sepulchre, 
Matthew  states  that  the  Phariset^s  applied  to 
Pilate  for  a  guard  to  be  placed  over  it,  to  pre- 
vent the  body  being  stolen ;  and  tliat  a  watch 
was  therefore  set  and  the  sepulchre  sealed. 
Yet  none  of  the  other  gospels  say  any  thing 
of  such  an  application,  or  of  any  watch  or 
guard,  or  of  the  sealing  of  the  sepulchre,  or 
of  the  earthquake.  According  to  their  ac- 
counts, there  were  none  of  these  things. 

"After  the  resurrection,  Matthew  says  that 
Jesus  first  'appeared  to  Mary  Mngdaleno  and 
the  other  Mary,  on  their  way  f/om  the  sepul- 
chre, who '  held  him  by  the  feet,  and  worshiped 
him.'  He  next  mot  the  eleven  disciples,  by  &i>- 
pointmeut,  vpoii  a  mountain  in  Galilee. 

•  Similar  prodigies  were  eairt  or  supposed  to  ac- 
company tlie  duatl»8  of  many  great  men  ni  former  days, 
[loiig  befoic  Ctiribt,]  a»  in  the  case  of  Ca-sar.  (Virgil, 
Georg.  1,  4t)3,e<  seq.)  Shaliespcaru  has  embalmed  somo 
traditions  of  the  kind,  exactly  analogous  to  the  pre- 
sent case.  Kee  Julius  CiEsar,  act  ii.,  scene  2.  Agi'.in 
he  says,  Hamlet,  act  i.  scene  1 : 

"  In  tlie  most  high  and  palmy  state  of  Rome, 
A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell. 
The  graves  stood  tenantlcss,  and  the  sheeted  dead 
Did  squeak  iuid  gibber  iu  the  Itomau  streets." 

Greg,  p.  133. 


EXETER    HALL. 


Iier  for  m 

the  exact 

ildii  are  re- 
I'w,  (27th 
thu  thirty 
iHC'lt';  and 
ud  biAight 

lid  not  re- 
'v,  tliat  he 
|)iircha8ed 
,  und  toll- 
:ho  niidtit, 

nry  occiir- 
tht;  doiitli 
^•as  rt'iit  in 
iclis  rent, 
lie  snirtK 
lie  gravies 
» tho  holy 
int  a  t't'ar- 
oaranct'B  f 
ni;  iimlies 
tho  Now 
such  an 

'erse  53  of 
,  that  the 
;ry  day  of 
sn}'s,  that 
er  tho  re- 
admitted 
here  can, 
nopossesB- 
as  one  of 
or  Christ, 
IUI8  at  the 
I'hich  he, 
[ition  and 
ch  distin- 
into  hia 

lepulchre, 
ijiplied  to 
it,  to  pre- 
,t  a  watch 
re  sealed, 
my  thing 
watch  or 
ukhre,  or 
their  ac- 
iijrs. 

says  that 
ileno  and 
the  scpul- 
•vorshipcd 
les,  by  aj,)- 
lue. 

>9t'cl  to  ac- 
ormerdays, 
ir.  (VirgU, 
uiniud  suine 
to  the  pre- 
e  2.    Agi'in 

tome, 

iceted  dead 
streets." 
eg,  p.  138. 


\Vf 


"Acfrtrdtnj?  to  Mark.  'lie  appeared  firpt  ot 
Mary  MiijrdnI«Mi<»';' next, 'in  onotlnT  form,  to 
two  of  thi!in  ;'  '  lafterward  to  the  elrvcn  as  they 
sat  at  meat !' 

"  By  Luke,  firwt,  'toward  evoninj;'  ns  ho 
sat  at  meat  wijth  ttFo  at  a  villajii'  'oallcd 
KntniauR,  whirh  was  from  JcruHaltm  nhmii 
three-score  fiirlonga.'  Next,  he  appeared 
in  the  midst  'of  tliiiii '  nt  .lertipaleiu,  wli<  re 
he  ate  '  broiled  fish  and  honey-roial).'  Alter 
this,  he  led  them  out  as  far  as  Hetliany,  and, 
liavinpf  blessed  them,  '  was  parted  fron'i  them 
and  earric'd  up  into  heaven.' 

"  Accordin/r  to  John,  he  f'.r.Ht  appeared  at  the 
sepulchre  to  Mary  Majrdalene,  wiiom  Xwfurhid 
to  touch  him  ;  atterward,  on  tlie  evening  of  the 
same  day,  at  Jerusalem,  in  the  midst  of  his  dis- 
eiplea,  in  a  elosed  apartment,  the  doors  beinj; 
shut ;  eijjht  days  afterward,  in  the  sami*  place, 
when  Tlioinas  was  present,  who  ■lean  permitted 
to  touch  him;  and  a^rain,  for  the  last  time,  to 
his  disciples,  at  the  Sea  of  Tiberias. 
"The  starthnc  descrepancies  in  these  accounts 
as  to  when,  where,  by  whom,  and  how  often 
Jesus  was  seen  after  his  death  should,  one 
mi/rht  think,  entirely  disqualify  them  from 
beinjj  received  as  evidence.  Those  who  will 
take  the  trouble  to  read  the  passajjes  in  full 
from  the  Testament  will  discover  the  utmost 
confusion  as  to  time,  place,  and  circumstance ; 
wo  shall  just  look  at  two  or  three  of  them. 
One  account  says  that  Mary  Majfdaleno  and 
the  other  'Mury  held  Jestisin/  the  feet;  another, 
that  he  would  not  permit  himself  to  be  touch- 
ed by  her,  because  he  had  '  not  yet  ascended 
to  his  Father' I  And  yet  another  account 
certifies,  that  ho  allowed  Thomas  to  touch  and 
examine  his  hands,  feet,  and  side! 

"  One  account  states  that  Christ  first  met  his 
disciples,  after  the  resurrection,  upon  a  moun- 
tain in  Galilee  ;  other  accounts  state  that  he 
met  them  at  meat,  in  a  closed  room,  at  Jerizsa 
lem  !  One  account  leads  to  the  certain  infer- 
ence that  he  took  final  leave  of  his  disciples 
at  Bethany,  and  ascended  to  heaven  the  very 
day  of  his  resurrection  ;  another  states  that  he 
remained  and  ate  and  drank  with  his  disciples 
for  several  days  after  his  resurrection :  and 
Acts  1  states  that  he  ascended  from  Mount 
Olivet  1  It  would  be  impossible  to  compile 
more  jjlarinfj  contradictions. 

"  Tho  several  accounts  of  the  conversion  of 
Paul  are  at  variance  ;  and.  had  we  time,  we 
could  furnish  such  a  list  of  palpable  discre- 
pancies and  contradictions,  such  clashing, 
repugnant,  incompatible,  and  inconsistent  his- 
tories, statements,  and  doctrines,  all  given  as 
'inspired  truth,'  that  we  venture  to  say  no 
other  book  yet  printed  can  exceed  the  Bible 
in  this  particular  in  the  same  number  of 
pages. 

"  Even  after  all  the  inspiration  said  to  have 
been  given,  and  after  all  tho  great  care  taken 
to  make  the  present  selection  of  biblical  books 
perfect,  yet  many  chapters,  parts  of  chapters, 
and  verses  have  been  declared  spurious  !  In 
the  New  Testament,  the  first  and  second 
chapters  of  Matthew  ;  the  first  and  secoi^d  of 
liuke  ;  the  last  twelve  verses  of  the  sixteenth 
chapter  of  Mark  ;  besides  certain  verses,  here 
and  there,  in  gospels,  acts,  and  epistles.  In 
this  scientific,  enlightened,  and  inquiring  age, 


'  there  can  be  no  greater  fraud  than  to  continue 
to  asm^rt  that  such  an  incongruous  mass  a» 
that  contained  in  the  Christian  Bible  is  a  ro- 
fie<'tion  of  tho  divine  mind  or  a  revelation 
from  a  Supreme!  Being  to  man. 

"The  doctrines  of  til"'  Bible  ari^not  orif/inat. 
Many  nations  of  antiquity  hud  similar  reli- 
gious creeds  and  cereiuonit's,  long  before  the 
alleged  time  of  Moses.  Tlie  wonderful  re- 
semblance between  the  religious  doctrines 
and  ceremonies  of  the  Jews  and  Egyjitians 
have  led  belit.'vers  in  tho  Bible  with  peculiar 
nssumjition  to  assert  that  tho  Egyjitians  were 
but  ni'Tt*  copyists  from  Mcses  ;  but  at  the 
time  when  it  is  said  that  Abraham  entered 
^'Wl*t,  the  few  score  Jews  that  then  existed 
were  rude,  wandering  sheph(;rds  ;  dw»'llers  in 
tents,  ignorant  and  unskilled.  Then,  at  that 
very  jieriod,  Egypt  was  a  proud,  ancient  king- 
dimi,  with  a  dense  agricuitural  population; 
it  had  its  learned  and  scientific  men  ;  it  had 
houses,  and  palaces,  and  temples,  and  of  many 
of  these  the  lich  and  significant  ruins  still  re- 
main. Those  who  have  investigated  the 
antiquities  of  that  country  assert  tliest;  facte. 
Kendrick,  in  his  Ancient  Kgypt,  says,  '  It  is  a 
remarkable  fact  th..  the  first  glimpse  we  ob- 
tain of  the  history  and  manners  of  the  Egyp- 
tians shows  us  a  nation  already  far  advanced 
in  all  the  arts  of  civilized  life  ;  and  the  same 
customs  and  inventions  that  prevailed  in  the 
Augustan  age  of  the  people,  after  the  acces- 
sion  of  the  eighteenth  dynasty,  are  found  in  the 
remote  age  of  Osirtasen,  the  cotenqiorary  of 
Joseph,  nor  can  there  be  any  doubt  that  they 
were  in  th'3  same  civilized  state  when  Abraham 
visited  the  country,' 

"  We  shall  look  at  the  similarity  of  a  few  of 
the  ceremonies.  The  Egyptians  had  an  ark, 
boat,  or  shrine  carried  in  procession  by  the 
priests ;  the  Mosaic  ark  was  born  by  the  Le- 
vites.  Gods  of  the  ancients  were  said  to  travel, 
und  were  provided  with  such  an  ark  for  con- 
veyance ;  the  Jews  had  an  ark  of  the  cove- 
nant, into  which  their  god  occasionolly  en- 
tered. Speaking  of  the  ark  of  the  covenant 
as  being  but  a  model  of  the  Egyptian  shrine, 
Kendrick  says,  '  The  mixed  figures  of  the 
cherubim,  which  were  placed  at  either  end 
and  overshadowed  it  with  their  wings,  has  a 
parallel  in  scmie  of  tho  Egyptian  representa- 
ti<ms.  in  which  kneeling  figures  spread  their 
wings  «)ver  the  shrine.'  Kitto,  in  his  Biblical 
Cyclopedia,  furnishes  indirect  evidence  as  to 
wliich  was  the  more  ancient  religion ;  in 
order  to  illustrate"  what  cherubim  were,  he 
gives  engravings  of  Egyptian  sjihinxcs ! 
Who  will  assert  that  Judaism  is  older  than 
such  Egyptian  sculptures? 

"  Hittel  states  that '  The  religious  ceremonies 
of  the  Hebrews  bore  a  remarkable  resem- 
blance to  those  of  the  Egyptians.  The  Jews 
considered  Jerusalem  a  holy  city,  and  attribut- 
ed great  re'l;?ious  merit  to  pilgrimages 
thither.  In  tho  valley  of  the  Nile,  there  were 
holy  places  also.  Tho  great  temple  of  Arte- 
mis, at  Bubastis,  was  visited  by  700,000  pil- 
grims annually,  if  we  can  believe  the  report 
of  Herodotus,  who  visited  Egypt  while  the 
ancient  superstition  was  still  in  full  favor  with 
tho  jieople.' 

"  Tho  Egyptians  offered  sacrifices  of  vego- 


-'''.4 


I 


118 


EXETER   HALL. 


tables  and  animals  to  the  gods,  and  so  did  the 
Jews.  Tlie  Jewish  and  Egyptian  priests  slew 
the  sacrificial  animals  in  the  same  manner, 
by  cutting  the  throat.  The  Egyptians  pre- 
ferred red  oxen  without  spot  for  sacrifice,  and 
Moses  directed  the  selection  of  a  red  heifer. 
(Num.  19 :  3.)  The  custom  of  the  scape-goat 
(Lev.  16 :  21)  was  common  to  both  nations.  A 
sacred  fire  was  kept  continually  burning  in 
the  temple  of  Vhebes  as  well  as  in  India. 
(Lev.  0 :  13, 13.)  Egyptian  priests  took  oft' 
their  shoes  in  the  temples,  and  Joshua  took  off" 
his  shoes  in  a  holy  place.  (Josh.  5  :  15.)  The 
Egyptian  priests  danced  before  their  altars, 
and  the  same  custom  prevailed  in  Jerusalem. 
(Ps.  149 : 3.)  The  practice  of  circumcision, 
claimed  by  Moses  as  a  divine  ordinance  com- 
municated to  Abraham,  is  proved  by  the 
monuments  of  Egypt  to  have  been  fully  esta- 
blished there  at  a  time  long  antecedent  to  the 
alleged  date  of  Abraham.  Herodotus  wrote 
that  in  his  time  '  the  Phoenicians  and  the 
Syrians  say  they  learned  it  (circumcision)  from 
the  Egyptians.'  The  Egyptians  had  their 
unclean  meats,  including  pork,  a»  well  as  the 
Jews.  The  Egyptians  anointed  their  kings 
and  priests  long  before  there  were  any  kings 
or  priests  in  Israel.  The  Urim  and  Thum- 
mim,  (Ex.  39  :  8, 10 ;  Lev.  8  :  8,)  which  play  a 
stupid  part  in  the  books  of  Moses  and  Joe 
Smith,  were  once  not  inappropriate  figures  of 
Ro,  the  god  of  light,  and  Themi,  the  goddess 
of  justice,  (wlience  the  Greek  2'hemis,)  worn 
on  the  breasts  of  Egyptian  judges. 

"  The  Jews  reverenced  the  name  of  Jehovah 
precisely  as  the  Egyptians  did  the  sacred  name 
of  Osiris.  It  is  even  known  that  Henxlotus, 
after  having  been  at  Memphis,  when  writing 
about  tliat  divinity,  would  not  use  his  name. 

"  Certain  writers  in  favor  of  the  Jews  have 
had  the  temerity  to  assert  that  the  idea  of  one 
supreme  God  originated  with  them.  The 
Rev.  Robert  Taylor,  in  his  Biegesis,  says, '  The 
notion  of  one  Supreme  Being  was  universal. 
No  calumny  could  be  more  egregious  than 
that  which  charges  the  pagan  world  with  ever 
having  lost  siglit  of  that  notion,  or  ccmipro- 
mised  or  surrendered  its  paramount  impor- 
tance in  all  the  varieties  and  modifications  of 
pagan  piety.  Tliis  predominant  notion  (odmits 
Mosheim)  showed  itself,  even'  through  the 
darkness  of  the  grossest  idolatry.'* 

"  That  the  worship  of  Egyptian,  Jew,  and 
Pagan  was  in  many  respects  very  absurd, 
few  are  now  inclined  to  doubt ;  but  the 
Egyptian  was  more  speculative  and  philo- 
sophical. Much  has  been  said  concerning 
their  worsliip  of  the  onion.  The  Rev.  Robert 
Taylor  says,  '  The  respect  he  (the  Egyptian) 
paid  to  it  referred  to  a  high  and  mystical  order 
of  astronomical  speculations,  and  was  purely 
emblematical.  The  onion  presented  to  the 
eye  of  the  Egyptian  visionary  the  most  curi- 
ous type  in  nature  of  the 'disposition  and 
arrangement  of  the  great  solar  systira,'  This 
learned  author,  in  his  Dicgem  i)roveB,  we 
think  to  a  certainty,  that  the  Jews '  plagiarized 

•  All  the  Inferior  dpltico  in  Fomor  nrc  represented  as 
then  nddrcfuiiiff  the  siiiirenic  .Iovk— 
"  O  llrBt  and  fjrt'utcct  (Joi) !  by  {jods  adored, 
Wo  owu  thy  power,  our  Father  und  our  Lord." 

Iliad. 


the  religious  legends '  and  ceremonies  of  other 
nations,  particularly  from  the  Egyptians,  and 
that  their  ancient  and  mystical  thwjjogy  foims 
the  grand  basis  of  the  Jewish  patch-work  of 
rites  and  ceremonies,  so  ol'ten  mistaken  foj- 
the  original  creed,  and  so  lauded  as  the  'di- 
vine porch  to  the  temple  of  the  Now  (Testa- 
ment) by  the  clerical  autocrats  of  Exeter  Hall.* 

"  But  what  of  Christianity  ?  Was  not  that 
something  original  ?  Was  not  the  idoa  of  a 
God-begotten  child,  of  a  celestial  Saviour, 
entirely  new  ?  Surely,  there  was  something 
in  this  '  wonderful  plan,' of  which  man  had 
no  previous  conception.  Let  us  see.  It  was  n 
common  idea  in  ancient  times  to  fancy  that 
great  men  or  great  I'sroes  were  descended  from 
the  gods.  Jesus  Christ  had  prototypes  in 
^sculapius,  Hercules,  Adonis,  Apollo,  Pro- 
metheus, (who  it  is  said  was  crucified,)  Chrish- 
nu,  and  many  others.  Of  .^Esculapius,  the 
Rev.  Robert  Taylor  says,  {Diegem  p.  149,) 
'  The  worship  of  JEsculapius  was  first  estab- 
lished in  Egypt,  the  fruitful  parent  of  all 
varieties  of  superstition.  He  is  well  known 
as  the  god  of  the  art  of  healing,  and  his 
Egyptian  or  Phoenician  origin  leads  us  irre- 
sistibly to  associate  his  name  and  character 
with  that  of  the  ancient  Therapeuts,  or  society 
of  healers,  established  in  the  vicinity  of 
Alexandria,  whose  bacred  writings  Eusebius 
has  ventured  to  acknowledge  were  the  first 
types  of  our  four  gospels.  The  miracles  of 
healing  and  of  raising  the  dead,  recorded  in 
those  Scriptures,  are  exactly  such  as  these  su- 
perstitious quacks  would  be  likely  to  ascribe 
to  the  founder  of  their  fraternity. 

'"By  the  mother's  side,  .^Bsculapius  was  the 
son  of  Caronis,  who  had  received  the  embraces 
of  God,  but  for  whom,  unfortunately,  the  wor- 
shipers of  her  son  have  forgotten  to  claim  the 
honor  of  perpetual  virginity.  To  conceal 
her  pregnancy  from  her  parents,  she  wjent  to 
Epidaurus,  and  was  there  delivered  of  a  son, 
whom  she  exposed  upon  the  Mount  of  Myrtles; 
when  Aristhenes,  the  goat-herd,  in  search  of  a 
goat  and  a  dog  missing  from  his  fold,  dis- 
covered the  child,  whom  he  would  have  car- 
ried to  his  home  had  he  not,  in  approaching 
to  lift  him  up,  perceived  his  head  encircled 
with  fiery  rays,  which  niE  la  him  believe  the 
child  to  be  divine.  The  voice  of  fame  soon 
publishfsd  the  birth  of  a  miraculous  infant ; 
upon  which  the  people  flocked  from  all 
quarters  to  behold  this  heaven-born  child. 

"  '  The  principal  result,  however,  of  this  re- 
semblance is  the  evidence  it  affords  that  the 
terms  or  epithets  of  '  our  Saviour ' — the 
Saviour  being  God,  were  the  usual  designa- 
tions of  the  gods  iEsculapins;  and  that  mira- 
cles of  healing  and  resurrection  from  the  dead 
were  the  evidence  of  his  divinity  for  ages  bo- 
fore  similar  pretenses  were  advanced  for  Jesus 
of  Nazareth.' 

"  Middleton,  in  his  Free  Inquiry,  says : 
'  Strabo  informs  us  that  the  temples  of  .^hcu- 
lapius  were  constantly  filled  with  the  Hick, 
imploring  the  help  of  OoD;  and  that  they 

♦The  religions  ceremonies  of  the  Ej^yntiana  and 
JewB  were  w)  Hiniilnr,  that  the  Koinun  law,  hi  the  tinio 
of  the  eniperora,  to  prohibit  the  worship  of  Ids  in 
the  cnp'tol,  Mookc  of  the  Jewloh  wornhip  us  thoush  it 
were  not  diiitmuuishablu  from  that  of  the  Kgyptiuua,— 
UilUl. 


EXETER    HALL. 


m 


had  tables  *  hanging  around  them  in  which 
all  the  miraculous  euros  were  described. 
There  is  a  remarkable  fragment  of  one  of  these 
tables  still  extant,  and  exhi))ited  by  Gruter 
in  his  collection,  as  it  was  founrl  in  the  ruins 
of  .SIsculapius'  temple  in  the  island  of  th(! 
Tyber  in  Rome;  which  gives  an  account  of 
two  blind  men  restored  to  siglit  by  .Jilscula- 
pius  in  the  open  view  and  with  the  loud  accla- 
mations of  the  people,  acknowledging  the 
manifest  power  of  the  god.'  It  was  said  that 
.^sculapius  not  only  cured  t]>e  sick,  but  raised 
the  dead ;  and  that  Jupiter,  having  become 
fearful  or  jealous  of  his  power,  slew  him 
with  a  thunderbolt.'! 

"  We  shall  pass  over  the  others,  to  call  your 
attention  to  the  remarkable  coincidence  there 
is  between  the  history  of  Christ  and  that  of 
Prometheus.  The  name  corresponds  with 
that  giv«i  to  the  Christian  deity,  Providence. 
Prometheus,  it  was  asserted,  was  both  god 
and  man.  His  character  and  attributes  are 
depicted  in  tlie  beautiful  tragedy  of  ^schylus, 
Prometheus  Bound,  written  over  five  hundred 
years  before  the  Christian  era,  the  plot  being 
then  taken  from  'materials  of  an  infinitely 
remote  antiquity.'  Prometheus  was,  it  is  said, 
crucified  at  Mount  Caucasus,  as  an  atonement 
for  others.  At  his  crucifixion,  there  was  great 
darkness  and  a  terrible  storm  ;  rocks  were  rent, 
graves  were  opened,  and  all  left  him  except  a 
few  faithful  women  !  The  story  will  be  found 
more  detailed  in  the  Diegem  of  the  Reverend 
Robert  Taylor  ;  or,  had  we  the  lost  '  gospel  to 
the  Egyptians,' it  might  shed  some  light  up- 
on that  great  forerunner  of  the  Jewish  Logos.  | 
In  connection  with  this,  we  might  mention 
that  tht)  cross  is  of  pagan  origin.  Taylor  says, 
{Diegesiii,  p.  301,)  '  It  should  never  be  forgot- 
ten that  the  sif/n  of  the  cross,  for  ages  anterior 
to  the  Augustan  era,  was  in  common  use 
among  the  Gi^ntiles.  It  was  the  most  sacred 
symbol  of  Egyptian  idolatry.  It  is  on  most 
of  the  Egyptian  obelisks,  and  was  believed  to 
possess  all  the  devil-expelling  virtues  which 
have  since  been  ascribed  to  it  by  Christians. 
The  monogram,  or  symbol  of  the  god 
Saturn,  was  the  sign  of  the  cross,  together 
with  a  ram's  horn.  Jupiter  also  bore  a  cross 
with  a  horn,  Venus  a  cross  with  a  circle.  The 
famous  6V«>c  Ansntd  is  to  be  seen  in  all  the 
buildings  of  Egypt ;  and  the  moat  celebrated 
temples  of  the  idol  of  Chrishnu  in  India, 
like  our  Gothic  cathedrals,  were  built  in  the 
form  of  crosses.' 

♦  Tablets. 

t  Ovid,  who  %vrote  bui'orc  the  time  of  Christ,  gave 
In  his  3fetamorn>iofte.t,  socond  booii.  thin  jjrodlction 
concerning  the  life  and  actions  of  iEBCulai)ius,the  grout 
phyaician : 

"  Once  as  the  pncrcd  infant  she  PurTcyed, 
The  god  was  l{indlc>d  in  tlie  nvvinfj  nvUd, 
And  Mills  Khe  uttered  lier  |)roi)lietic  lalo  : 
Hail,  uroat  physician  of  tlio  world !  all  liail  I 
Hail,  niisriity  infant  1  who  in  years  to  come 
Shall  lietil  the  nations  and  defraud  tlie  tomb. 
Swift  lie  tiiy  Ki'owth,  tliy  triumplis  unconllned, 
Make  l{ini;clonis  tliiclter,  and  increase  manlviud  ; 
Thy  (larinjj;  art  shall  animate  the  dead, 
And  draw  tin;  tliunder  on  thy  Kuiity  head  ; 
Tlien  thou  shalt  die,  but  IVoin  tlie  (larit  abode 
Shalt  rise  victorious  and  he  twice  a  Ljod." 

Aifdifion.''H  versijlcatlon. 

X  See  Potter's  trouslatlou  of  iBschylus. 


" '  On  a  Phoenician  medal  found  in  the  ruins 
of  Citium,  and  engraved  in  Dr.  Clarke's  Tra- 
vels, and  proved  by  him  to  be  Phceniciar,  are 
inscribed  not  only  the  cross,  but  the  rosary  or 
string  of  beads  attached  to  it.'  The  cross 
was  also  found  in  the  ancient  temple  of  Sera- 
pis.  A  pious  writer,  Mr.  Skeltoa,  says, '  How 
it  came  to  pass  that  the  Egyptians,  Arabians, 
and  Indians,  before  Christ  came  among  us, 
paid  a  remarkable  veneration  to  the  sign  of 
the  cross  is  to  mo  unknown ;  but  the  fact  it- 
self is  known.' 

"  Another  very  marked  resemblance  is  to  be 
found  between  Sakya  Muni,  the  Buddhist  sav- 
iour, and  Christ.  Hittel  says,  '  The  life  of 
this  saviour,  Sakya  Muni,  bears  much  simi- 
larity to  that  of  Jesus.  He  was  an  incarnate 
god,  and  was  born  of  a  married  virgin  of 
royal  blood.  He  spent  six  years  in  the  wilder- 
ness as  a  hermit,  and,  having  been  purified 
by  penance,  he  went  to  the  populous  districts 
of  Hindoostan.  and  to  the  sacred  city  of  Be- 
nares, where  he  preached  the  gospel  of  Bud- 
dhism, wrought  miracles,  and  made  numerous 
converts.  Sakya  did  not  commit  his  doctrine 
to  writing  ;  his  disciples  composed  numerous 
sacred  books,  containing  records  of  his  life 
and  teachings.' 

"  line,  in  his  book  Journey  through  tlie  Chi- 
nese Empire,  chapter  fifth,  states,  'If  we  ad- 
dressed a  Mongol  or  Thibetan  this  question, 
"  Who  is  Buddha?"  he  instantly  replied,  "  The 
saviour  of  men."  The  marvelous  birth  of 
Buddha,  his  life  and  instructions,  contain  a 
great  number  of  moral  truths  and  dogmas 
professed  in  Christianity.'  And  yet  these 
'  moral  truths '  were  disseminated  ages  be- 
fore Christ. 

"  Father  Booris,  a  Catholic  missionary  to  the 
Buddhists  of  Cochin  China,  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  was  astonished  to  discover  rites  and 
ceremonies  among  that  people  similar  to  those 
of  his  own  church ;  and  upon  this  he  wrote, 
'  There  is  not  a  dress,  office,  or  ceremony  in 
the  Church  of  Rome  to  which  tlie  devil  has 
not  here  provided  some  counterpart,'  And 
Murray,  in  his  History  of  Discoveries  in  Asia, 
alluding  to  Father  Booris,  says,  '  Even  when 
he  began  inveighing  against  the  idols,  he  was 
told  that  these  were  the  images  of  departed 
great  men,  whom  they  worshiped  exactly 
on  the  same  principle  and  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  the  Catholics  did  the  images  of  the 
apostles  and  martyrs.'  In  fact,  while  Chris- 
tianity has  bfou  called  a 'revamp  of  Bud- 
dhism,' 'the  Buddhism  of  the  West,'  Mil- 
man  and  Reniusat  speak  of  Buddhism  as  'the 
Christianity  of  the  East.' 

"  Were  wo  not  limited  for  time,  we  could 
give  you  numerous  other  coincidences,  and  also  • 
prove  that  many  sayings  attributed  to  the 
Christian  Saviour  were  uiaxinis  uttered  cen- 
turies before  his  birth.  The  most  noted  pla- 
giarism of  this  kind  is  that  of  the  golden 
rule  of  Confucius,  whoso  '24th  maxim  runs 
thus :  '  Do  to  another  what  you  would  ho 
should  do  unto  you  ;  and  do  not  unto  another 
what  you  would  not  should  be  done  unto  you. 
Thou  only  needest  this  law  alone  ;  it  is  the 
foundation  and  jirinciplo  of  all  the  rest  1' 

"  We  find  that  there  are  three  iirincipal  cha- 
racters in  the  Christiuu  Bible  :  the '  Almighty/ 


m 


»  t 


120 


EXETER    HALL. 


'" 


■>«<*■'' 


it 


.^ 


l»i.  him  ■* 


or  spirit  of  good  ;  '  Satan,'  the  spirit  of  evil ; 
and  the  person  known  as  the  '  liodeemcr." 
There  is  no  account  given  us  of  the  creation 
of  Satan  or  of  the  numeroup  angels,  good  and 
bad,  which  are  said  to  exist.  We  are  told 
that  tir.s  desperately  wicked  being  and  his 
adherents  were  once  denizens  o^  heaven  itself, 
and,  consequently,  must  have  been  pure  and 
*  holy.'  Satan  is  now  known  as  the  wicked  and 
designing  one, '  going  about  se(?king  whom  he 
may  devour.'  The  Divine  Being  is  said  to 
have  created  all  things,  and  to  have  j)ro- 
nounced  them  '  very  good.'  How,  then,  came 
he  to  create  such  a  fiend  as  the  'devil,'  and 
permit  him  to  have  such  perfect  freedom .  even 
to  thwart  Heaven'sdesigns,  and  with  sutHcient 
influence  to  counteract  the  '  atonement '  and 
successfully  urge  frail  humanity  down  to 
'eternal  ruin'V 

'"  Bible  worshipers  tell  us  that  that  book  is 
plain  and  easily  understood  ;  that  it  is  the 
pure,  unadulterated  '  word  of  God.'  Yet,  upon 
examination,  it  is  found  false  in  its  history 
and  science,  gross  and  impure  in  its  morality, 
and  full  of  absurdities,  contradictions,  and 
anachronisms.  Priests,  with  lengtliy  and  learn- 
ed commentarifs,  then  endeavor  t;  explain. 
When  they  find  a  palpable  error,  they  say,  '  It 
must  be  a  mistake  ;'  when  a  glaring  discre- 
pancy is  discovered,  then  they  find  an  '  interpo- 
lation.' Show  them  a  plain  contrad'iction, 
they  will  make  it  a '  false  translation ;'  point 
them  to  grossly  indecent  jmssages,  they  are 
'  figurative.'  Question  them  about  absurdi- 
ties of  doctrines,  they  will  call  them  'myste- 
ries.' Tell  them  of  the  violence  and  inhu- 
manity of  Ood's  chosen  rulers  and  people,  and 
they  will  find  you  a  ready  excuse.  They  will 
find  a  plea  for  indecency,  treachery,  and  ijlood  ; 
and  were  the  Bible  stamped  on  every  page, 
as  it  is  in  many  chapters,  with  assertions  con- 
tradictory to  science,  reason,  and  common 
sense,  the  plea  will  be,  '  it  is  because  they 
arc  above  our  finite  co:nprehension !'  Anil 
the  tmmerciful,  revengeful  deity  of  the  Jews 
— ' the  assassin  of  humanity' — will  be  repre- 
Bented  as  a  God  of  compassion,  'full  of  pity 
and  loving-kindness,  whose  mercy  enduretJi 
forever !" 

"  To  submit  to  the  teachings  of  the  Christian 
Bibl(%  you  must  belinve  that  there  is  a  Supreme 
Being,  pure,  just,  loving,  and  merciful ;  that 
he  is  at  the  sanu3  time  partial,  wrathful,  and 
unforgiving.  That  he  created  all  things  and 
pronounced  them  good,  luid  afterward  repent- 
ed having  made  them  l)ecause  they  were  evil. 
That  man  was  created  pure,  and  holy,  and  in 
the  likeness  of  the  deity  ;  and,  that  afterward, 
without  being  periviitted  to  know  good  from 
--evil,  he  '  fell,'  and  became  sinful  and  wick(!d 
jvt  the  yi}TY  flmt  temptation.  That  Adam  and 
his  posterity  were  condemned  and  cursed  for 
the  offense  of  his  ignorance  ;  but  tliat  in  the 
;Cours(5  of  time  a  deity  came  down  from 
.heaven,  assumed  human  form,  and  died,  '  the 
just  for  the  unjust,'  to  satisfy  the  'justice' 
■of  a  loving  Creator.  Tliat  the  deity  who  suf- 
fered, called  tlu!  S(m,  was  just  as  old  as  his 
father.  Tliat  there  is  but  one  God,  and  that 
there  are  tfirce  (Hods,  That,  notwithstanding 
the  powi!r  of  omnipotenci*,  there  is  a  d(!vil 
liaving  freedom  to  go  about  '  like  a  roaring 


lion,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour,'  doing, 
with  a  certain  impunity,  all  the  harm  he  can. 
That  God,  desirous  of  revealing  his  will  to 
man,  did  so,  through  the  agency  of  men  whom 
ho  inspired  for  that  purj)ose,  nuxny  of  whom 
were  grossly  wicked  characters,  'j'hat  a  God 
of  pity,  whose  mercy  «'nduri!th  forever,  in 
anger  drown<'d  the  worh'.  in  a  great  Hood,  and 
burnt  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  That  he  cliose, 
in  preference  to  all  others,  a  wretched  and 
barbarous  race,  the  Jews,  to  wluuii  he  was 
especially  favorable  ;  that  ht;  assi.sted  them  to 
conquer,  rob,  murder,  and  utterly  dentroy 
other  nations ;  and  that  yet  '  there  is  no  re- 
spect of  persons  with  God".'  That  God,  some- 
times alone  » lul  sometimes  in  company  of 
attendants,  visited  men,  talked  witli  them, 
and  ate  and  drank  in  their  ])resence  ;  and  yet 
that  'no  man  hath  seen  God  at  n/ii/  time.' 
Tliat  David,  a  robber  and  murdercM",  was  a 
man  'after  (Sod's  own  heart ;'  that  Solomon, 
proud  and  licentious,  was  a  'wise'  nan. 
That  God  made  the  sun  and  moon  stanc'  still, 
in  order  that  a  greater  number  of '  his  enemies ' 
should  be  slaughtered.  That  Elijah,  in  a 
chariot  of  fire,  drawn  by  horses  of  fire,  went 
up  alive  to  heaven  '  in  a  whirlwind  ;'  and  yet 
that  '  no  man  hath  ascended  to  heaven  but  ho 
that  came  down  from  heaven.'  That  a  witch 
raised  and  conversed  with  the  dead  Samuel. 
That  Nebuchadnezzar  '  ate  grass  like  an  ox.' 
That  Balaam's  ass  spake.  That  a  whale  de- 
voured Jonah,  and  that  he  was  afterward  catt 
up  alive  and  unharmed.  Thai  Lazarus,  dead 
and  in  a  presumed  statt^  of  decay,  was  brought 
to  life.  That  a  herd  of  swine  became  possessed 
of  devils.  That  tliere  is  a  hell  where  a  '  mer- 
ciful' Creator  will  torture  'the  condemned' 
with  '  fire  and  brimstone '  for(;ver,  and  that  his 
'  redeemed  saints'  shall  look  upon  such  atro- 
ciotis  cruelty  with  satisfaction  and  approval. 

"  This,  then,  is  the  revelation  about  >vhich 
interested  priests  and  those  they  can '  convert ' 
keep  up  such  an  excitement ;  they  tell  us,  w'th 
professional  effrontery,  that  it  is  a  '  free  gos- 
l)el,  while  we  all  know  that  Christianity  is 
the  most  costly  of  all  religions,  exorbitant 
and  unceasing  in  its  demands.  During  the 
last  fifty  years,  the  British  and  American 
Bible  Sochities  boast  that  they  have  circulated 
'80,000,000  of  cojiies  of  the  word  of  God 
among  the  heathen'  Who  can  truly  prove 
that  in  so  doing  they  have  served  the  cause 
of  humanity '?  In  Britain,  we  have  four  million 
sermons  annually  to  explain  conflicting  doc^ 
trini'S,  and  a  crowd  of  jarring  sects  to  retard 
human  j)rogress  and  i)eri)etiiate  strife.  It  is 
said  that  at  the  birth  of  Christ  the  temple  of 
Janus  was  closed  ;  there  was  then  universal 
])eiice ;  but  since  that  ])eri()d,  the  Gospel  has 
been  '  a  sword  '  upon  the  earth  and  religion 
a  greater  woe  to  mankind  1" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TitKRE  was  a  great  shadow  moving  toward 
TIampstead  Cottage — a  shadow  that  Avas  des- 
tine<l  to  rest  theri?,  and  lie  bleak  and  cold 
upon  the  hearts  of  some  of  its  inmates  for- 

evci  I 


EXETER   HALL. 


121 


The  darlinp  of  the  liousehold  had  a  few  days  | 
previously  taken  a  severe  cold,  and  inflammato- 
ry symptoms  had  increased.  The  delicate  boy 
was  very  low  ;  and  as  he  lay  restless  and  fever- 
ish in  his  sick  chamber,  his  sister  and  Hannah 
were  indefati<jable  in  their  gentle  attentions. 
The  attack  was  rather  sudclen  ;  and  though 
Mrs.  Maunora  felt  quite  alamied  at  first,  she 
"  poured  out  lier  soul  in  prayer,"  and  recovered 
her  equanimity.  She  had  now  no  fear  ;  she 
would  have  no  physician,  but  was  willing  to 
leave  results  in  the  hand  of  God  ;  she  was 
assured  Iks  would  not  take  her  child  from  her. 
Each  day  she  would  repeatedly  look  in  upon 
lier  alllicted  son,  and  would  i)ray  a  short  time 
at  his  bedside,  and  then  move  about  from 
room  to  room  humming  pious  tunes,  and  mut- 
tering to  herself  encouraging  texts  and  prom- 
ises made  to  the  faithful ;  and  after  listening 
to  exi)rcasions  of  anxiety  from  Hannah,  she 
would  reproach  her  for  want  of  fs-ith,  and  even 
hint  that  slie  was  falling  from  her  high  estate ; 
and  tben  slie  would  go  on  humming  again, 
in  a  state  of  the  most  cheerful  resignation. 

Her  disposition  in  this  respect  was  unusual- 
ly strange.  Since  the  meeting  at  Exeter  Hall, 
she  had  attended  revival  or  protracted  meet- 
ings at  Mr.  Baker's  church,  and  for  over  a 
month  past  her  absent  manner  had  been  no- 
ticed, and  she  would  say,  that,  while  "  dwell- 
ing upon  tlie  promises,"  her  soul  seemed  to 
leave  its  earthly  tenement  and  wander  to- 
ward Calvary  ;  and  that  she  was  becoming 
more  and  more  indifferent  to  the  things  of 
earth,  almost  weaned  from  every  tie — hus- 
band, children,  home.  This  condition  she 
insisted  was  the  best  evidence  of  her  entire 
devotion  to  Christ.  Formerly,  the  least  mis- 
hap to  William  touched  her  maternal  feelings 
to  the  quick  ;  and  if  it  were  of  a  serious  nature, 
she  would  become  almost  distracted  ;  but  now, 
whenMary  wept  in  secret  over  the  suilerings 
of  her  brother,  when  even  Hannah  could  scarce- 
ly find  consolation  from  John  Bunyan,  Mrs. 
Mannors  was  perfectly  calm  and  confident ; 
her  matured  faith  came  to  her  rescue  from  de- 
spondency in  the  hour  of  trial. 

The  stillness  around  the  whole  place  was 
very  great.  Outside,  the  sunbeams  seemed, 
as  it  were,  to  steal  down  timidly  ui)on  the  ivy, 
among  the  tremblinj;  leaves,  and  upon  the 
cages  at  the  door,  inducing  slumln^r  instead 
of  awakening  the  sprightly  melody  of  the  little 
prisoners.  The  flowers  appeared  to  signal 
sad  tidings  to  each  other,  and  then  mournfully 
bend  down  thdr  pretty  innocent  heads;  and 
the  K')ft,  sad  wind  came  along  in  whispers, 
as  if  cautioning  you  not  to  speak  above  a 
breath.  Flounce  missed  his  companion,  and 
even  wlicn  resting  ui)on  the  smooth  garden 
walk,  his  silken  head  between  his  fore-puws, 
would  look  up  wiiiningly  toward  tiie curtained 
window  where  William  firnt  gre(!ted  him  eacli 
morning  ;  ami  people  as  they  passed,  heard 
neitlier  laugh  nor  song,  and  wondered  at  the 
unusual  (juietness.  Within  the  house,  there 
was  almost  a  perfect  husli ;  the  ticking  of  the 
clock  alone  could  be  heard  in  the  lower  rooms  ; 
while  the  (piick,  heavy  breathing  of  the  ])a- 
tient,  and  tlu*  sigh  of  his  loving,  sympathising 
Bister  were  distinctly  audible  in  the  upper 
apartments;   oud  no  sound  was  allowed  to 


disturb  any  momentary  slumber  that  mighl 
weigh  down  the  weary  lids  of  the  poor  sufferer. 
Mr.  Mannors  felt  the  affliction  very  keenly ; 
the  doctor  had  but  just  left  without  having 
giv(;n  any  great  encouragement,  and  the  own- 
er of  Hampstead  Cottage  now  sat  alone  in 
his  quiet  study,  thinking  painfully  of  ihe 
broo(ling  trouble  that  seemed  to  approach  like 
the  first  great  cloud  over  the  sunshine  of  his 
life,  the  first  entry  of  sadness  into  his  pleas- 
ant lumie.  Tliough  very  anxious,  ho  was, 
however,  still  hopeful,  and  trusted  that,  with 
proper  treatment  and  attention.  William 
might  be  atiain  restored.  But  this  was  not 
his  only  care  ;  he  was  a  keen  observer,  and 
had  noticed  the  gradual  indifference  shown 
by  Mrs.  Mannors,  not  only  toward  himself, 
but  to  every  one  in  the  house  ;  she  did  not 
seem  to  realize  the  danger  of  her  child.  Even 
Hannah  felt  that  her  mistress  was  getting,  as 
she  said,  "  like  another  person,"  seldom 
speaking  to  her  about  household  matterb,  and 
still  more  seldom  on  religious  subjects  ;  all 
was  most  unaccountable.  She  saw  her  mis- 
tress  go  about  alone,  and  heard  her  pray 
alone  ;  often  saw  her  sit  an  hour  or  longer  at 
a  time  in  the  garden  or  summer-house,  ajv 
j)arcutly  thinking,  or  brooding  upon  some 
dark,  mysterious  subject,  yet  seemed  to  take 
no  more  pleasure  in  communicating  her 
thoughts  to  her ;  this  to  poor  Hannah  was  a 
sore  deprivation,  the  reason  of  which  she 
could  not  fathom.  Notwithstanding  all  this, 
Mrs.  i»5tinnors  was  more  devoted  than  ever  to 
her  religious  duties.  Night  after  night  she 
would  attend  "  meeting,"  and  would  keep  by 
herself  upon  her  return  ;  she  seemed  indeed 
to  forget  that  she  had  ever  communed  with 
Hannah  about  future  blessedness. 

This  conduct  astonished  Mr.  Mannors  very 
much,  and  now,  as  he  sat  thinking,  he  expe- 
rienced an  unusual  depression  of  spirits  ;  vis- 
itors could  not  be  received.  Mr.  Capel  had 
been  away  for  several  days,  and  might  not  re- 
turn very  soon,  as  he  knew  nothing  of  Wil- 
liam's illness ;  there  was  no  friend  near 
to  sympathize  ;  the  house  seemed  desolate, 
and  as  lie  turned  his  eyes  toward  the  garden, 
every  thing  was  as  gloomy  as  his  own 
thoughts.  Never  before  had  he  felt  so  dejected ; 
but,  after  pacing  the  room  for  a  few  minutes, 
lu!  again  sat  down,  determined  to  meet  every 
trouble  like  a  bravo  man — neither  to  cower  in 
adversity,  nor  despond  in  misfortune.  "  These 
trials,"  said  he,  "are  incident  to  human  life; 
no  matter  how  severe,  I  shall  try  and  meet 
them  iu  a  becoming  manner,  and  act  my  part 
to  the  best  of  my  ability." 

It  was  gi.'tting  toward  evening,  all  was  yet 
still,  and  Mr.  Mannors,  having  taken  but  little 
rest  for  several  nights  past,  dozed  in  his 
study  ;  ho  sat  in  his  cushioned  chair,  with  his 
arm  under  his  head,  resting  upon  his  desk,  and 
his  short  slumber  brought  consolation  as  well 
as  refreshment — it  gave  him  a  pleasant  dream, 
a  dream  of  William's  restoration  ;  and  in  that 
mirage  of  the  desert,  sleep,  he  saw  William  and 
Mary  sit  again  among  the  sun-iit  hills,  and 
watelied  the  clear  stream  sparkling  and  run- 
ning at  their  fe(>t.  He  was  suddenly  awak- 
ened by  a  slight  noise  in  the  adjoining  room  ; 
ho  looked  up,  and  Mrs.  Mannors  stood  before 


«■■  ■  'i 


h 


!      , 
.1 


122 


EXJJITER    HALL. 


'■M^il>M*.*t 


■  hi 


■■^: 


k\*'' 


him.  There  was  a  ■wildness  in  the  expression 
of  her  face,  and  she  held  out  a  Bible  at  arm's 
length,  and  her  other  hand  was  raised  in 
a  threatening^  manner.  He  was  a  little 
startled,  and,  without  replying  to  his  inquiry 
about  William,  his  wife,  in  slow  and  solemn 
voice  read  from  the  book  of  Job, "  How  oft  is 
the  candle  of  the  wicked  put  out !  and  how  oft 
Cometh  their  destruction  upon  them!  God 
distributeth  sorrows  in  his  anger.  They  are 
as  stubble  before  the  wind,  and  as  chaff  tliat 
the  storm  carrieth  away.  God  layeth  up  his 
iniquity  for  his  children  ;  he  rewardeth  him, 
and  he  shall  know  it.  His  eyes  shall  see  de- 
struction, and  he  shall  drink  of  the  wrath  of 
the  Almighty." 

"  Enjma,  Emma,"  said  Mr.  Manners  quickly 
rising,  "  what  does  this  mean 't" 

But  she  heeded  not ;  as  he  approached  her, 
she  stepped  back,  and  again  read,  "  This  is 
the  portion  of  a  wicked  man  with  God,  and 
the  heritage  of  oppressors  which  they  shall 
receive  of  the  Almighty.  If  his  children  be 
multiplied,  it  is  for  the  sword,  and  his  off- 
spring shall  not  be  satisfied  Mith  bread. 
Those  that  remain  of  him  shall  be  buried  in 
death,  and  his  widows  shall  not  weep." 

"  0  Emma !  why  do  you  read  this  ?  Do  sit 
down,"  said  he  tenderly,  and  he  tried  to  lay  his 
hand  upon  her  upraised  arm.  Again  she  re- 
treated ;  a  frown  settled  upon  her  troubled 
face,  and.  looking  sternly  at  him,  repeated  thi  s 
verse  from  the  fourth  chapter  of  Hosea, 
"Seeing  thou  hast  forgotten  the  law  of 
thy  God,  I  will  also  forget  thy  cliildren." 
So  sajiug,  she  flung  the  Bible  with  great 
torce  at  his  feet,  and  turned  to  leave  the 
room.  He  seized  her  arm,  and  begged  of 
her  to  be  seated,  to  be  calm,  and  talk  to 
him  in  her  accustomed  manner,  "  Talk  to 
you,"  said  she,  turning  upon  him  with  a 
scowl ;  "  talk  to  you !  Have  I  not  spoken  to 
you,  and  entreated  you  for  years  without 
avail  ?  Talk  to  you !  My  God !  Have  you  not 
rejected  the  promises  and  threatenings  of  the 
Gospel,  and  despised  God's  sanctuary  and  his 
ministers?  Have  you  not  lived  without  God 
and  without  hope  in  the  world  ?  and,"  said  she, 
lowering  her  voice,  "  you  will  die  in  despair ; 
and  your  blood — yes,  your  blood — be  upon 
your  head,  be  upon  your  own  head." 

She  again  tried  to  get  free,  but  the  strong 
arm  of  her  husband  held  her  in  the  chair. 
"  Let  mo  speak  to  you,  Emma,"  said  Mr.  Man- 
nors,  getting  alarmed.  "  Let  me  speak  to  you. 
What  is  the  matter  ?  why  do  you  speak  to  me 
in  this  way  V" 

"  Unbeliever,  be  gone !  We  have  been  un- 
equally yoked !  Oh  !  how  I  have  sinned  by  re- 
maining here  so  long  !  What  if  God  has  with- 
drawn his  Spirit,  has  withdrawn  his  Spirit  eter- 
nally, eternally  ?  1  must  flee  from  this  city  of 
destruction — I  must,  I  must  I" 

Hannah,  hearing  the  unusual  exclama- 
tions, just  then  rushed  into  the  room,  and 
Baw  hor  mistress  in  an  excited  state,  strug- 
gling to  get  away.  The  poor  girl  was 
dreadfully  alarmed,  and  tried  to  soothe  lu^r 
the  best  way  she  could.  It  was  of  no 
use ;  Mrs.  Manners  only  reproached  her 
again,  and  told  her  that  she  was  in  league 
with  the  evil  one  and  giving  encouragement 


to  an  unfaithful  man.  "  Yes,"  cried  she,  now 
standing  out  on  the  floor  and  stamping  with 
her  foot,  "Unfaithful,.unfaithful  to  me  and  to 
the  God  who  made  him !  I  will  abide  among 
ye  no  longer." 

Mr.  Manners,  pale  and  calm,  looked  with 
pity  upon  the  woman  for  whom  he  would 
readily  have  laid  down  his  life ;  he  seemed  to 
realize  at  once  the  dreadful  woe  that  had 
fallen  upon  her — a  woe  almost  as  dreadful  to 
him,  who  understood  its  nature.  Fearing  that 
any  alarm  might,  at  this  critical  time,  have  a 
fatal  effect  upon  his  child,  he  whispered  to 
Hannah,  who  now  almost  bewildered,  stood 
weeping,  and  trembling,  and  pleading  before 
her  mistress,  and  left  the  room  to  enter  the 
sick  chamber. 

Just  as  he  was  about  to  step  upon  the  stairs, 
a  pale-faced  young  man,  with  an  extravagant 
shirt  collar,  a  person  whom  he  had  seen  some- 
where before,  and  who  might  have  been 
standing  or  waiting  at  the  door  some  time  un- 
heard, handed  him  a  letter ;  it  was  from  his 
Solicitors,  Vizard  &  Coke,  Gray's  Inn ;  and  as 
Mr.  Manners  hurrijd  up  to  the  sick-room,  the 
young  man  lingered  a  moment  or  two,  and 
with  sinister  expression  leered  into  the  par- 
lor where  Hannah  and  Mrs.  Manners  were 
yet  standing,  and  then,  when  he  was  walking 
away,  he  muttered,  "  Unfaithful !  unfaithful ! 
What!  such  a  paragon  as  Martin  Manners 
lacking  virtue!" 

About  seven  o'clock  that  evening,  many 
persons  were  seen  moving  toward  Mr.  Baker's 
church,  at  Hampstcad  ;  a  great  revival  was  in 
progress,  and  for  several  successive  nights  a 
motley  crowd  of  saints  and  sinners  had  been 
collected,  and  it  was  said,  as  it  always  is  said, 
that  a  great  deal  of  good  had  been  done  ;  "the 
Lord  was  making  bare  his  arm,"  that  sinners 
were  "  struck  down  on  the  right  hand  and 
upon  the  left,"  and  that  "  many  precious 
souls"  were  now  able  to  sing  and  rejoice,  hav- 
ing obtained  "  the  blessing,"  and  been  fully 
restored  to  divine  favor.  In  about  an  hour's 
time,  the  church  was  crowded  ;  those  who 
were  "  under  conviction,"  mostly  women,  oc- 
cupied seats  and  pews  nearest  the  pulpit ; 
Avhiie  it  was  manifest  that  those  who  selected 
the  back  seats,  or  loitered  around  the  door- 
ways, belonged  to  the  "  unregeneratv ,"  of 
whom  there  were  still  a  suflicient  number  to 
(!xcite  the  sympathy  and  start  the  si>intual 
activity  of  the  most  skilled  and  energetic  gos- 
pel workmen.  Two  preachers  occujiied  the 
pulpit,  and  two  others,  supernumeraries,  sat 
within  the  railing  which  enclosed  it  and  the 
communion-table,  ready  at  the  projier  time  to 
perform  their  parts  toward  the  sj^iritual  re- 
novation of  such  sinners  as  might  be  brought 
within  their  reach.  Indeed,  it  was  ])lain  to 
be  S(^en  that  they  need  not  remain  i'l^a  for 
want  of  material  ;  for,  by  the  1  'oks,  and  ges- 
tures, and  whispers  of  a  large  numlxjr  of  the 
congregation,  there  were  many  who  ap]ieared 
to  attend  but  for  mere  pastime,  or  more  pro- 
bably to  enjoy  a  scene  peculiar  to  revivals. 

The  Kev.  James  BakcT  now  stood  up  in  the 
pulpit,  and,  having  looked  around  with  a  kind 
of  cleri(!al  scrutiny  at  tlie  coiign'uution,  said, 
"  Let  us  liegin  the  worship  (tf  God  by  twinging 
to  his  praise  the  hymu  to  bo  found  on  page 


EXETER    HALL. 


123 


d  Blie,  now 
ipiiijT  with 
ni<!  and  to 
ide  among 

oked  with 
lio  would 
seemed  to 
that  had 
Ireadful  to 
Tirinjf  that 
rno,  have  a 
lispered  to 
■red,  stood 
ing  before 
)  enter  the 

1  the  stairs, 
:travajiant 
seen  some- 
liave  been 
le  time  un- 
3  from  Ilia 
in ;  and  as 
-room,  the 
r  two,  and 
to  the  par- 
inors  were 
IS  walking 
m  faithful ! 
L  Mannors 

inp:,  many 

[r.  l?ak(!r'8 

ival  was  in 

e  nip^hts  a 

i  had  been 

lys  is  paid, 

lone  ;  "the 

at  sinners 

hand  and 

precious 

'joice,  hav- 

een  fully 

an  hour's 

lose  who 

lomen,  oc- 

10  pulpit ; 

n  selected 
the  door- 
Tat.  ,"  of 

lumber  to 

spiritual 
jretic  go9- 
ujned  the 
rariofl,  sat 
t  and  the 
er  time  to 
i ritual  re- 
5  broufjht 
I  jilnin  to 

11  ?<l'o  for 
and  pes- 

)er  of  the 
apjiearcd 
lions  pro- 
A-ivals. 
up  in  the 
it'i  akind 
lion,  said, 
y  Kinjring 
on  page 


37,  common  metre  ;"  and  then,  with  slow  and 
doleful  voice,  read  out  one  of  Wesley's  hymns 
of  six  verses,  commencing, 

"  Terriolc  ♦honght  i  shall  I  alone, 
Who  may  hu  saved,  shall  I, 
Of  a'!,  alas  !  whom  I  have  known, 
Through  sin,  forever  die  ? 

'•  While  all  my  old  companions  dear, 
With  whom  I  once  did  live, 
Joyftil  at  (lod's  right  hand  appea'*, 
A  blesBing  to  receive, 

"  Shall  I  amid  a  ghastly  band, 
Dragged  to  the  judgment-seat 
Far  on  the  left  with  horror  stand. 
My  fearful  doom  to  meet  ?" 

During  the  time  occupied  in  reading  the 
hymn,  several  other  persons  entercsd  the 
church,  and  every  seat  was  crowded.  Having 
finished,  he  read  again,  and  gave  out  the  first 
two  lines  of  the  first  verse ;  the  choir,  wlio 
were  in  the  gallery,  commenced  to  sing  the 
hymn  to  the  tune  of  "  Mear ;"  an  organ  led, 
and  as  the  player  fancied  that  the  occasion  re- 
quired its  most  thundering  tones,  so  ho  per- 
formed, and  the  air  rushed  through  the  sten- 
torian pipes  nearly  loud  enough  to  drown  all 
the  principal  voices  ;  it  would  be  next  to  im- 
possible to  combine  the  dipt  words  or  muti- 
lated lines  in  any  intelligible  form.  During 
this  particular  part  of  "divine  service,"  most 
of  the  congregation  turned  from  the  preacher 
in  the  pulpit,  and  almost  one  and  all  gazed 
up  at  the  harmonious  assemblage  in  the  gal- 
lery. A  person  might  think  that  the  dreary 
music  was  to  them  the  most  important  and 
attractive  part  of  religious  duty,  and  that  they 
came  specially  to  hear  a  pious  song  instead  of 
a  long  sermon ;  several,  however,  who  stood  in 
front,  nearest  the  railing,  "raised  their  voices 
in  praise"  and  joined  in  the  singing  with  par- 
ticular fervor. - 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  hymn,  the  preacher 
began  his  prayer  in  a  low  and  tremulous  voice 
at  first ;  then  with  more  spirit ;  then  the 
words  camo  faster  and  louder;  yet  louder 
still;  then  loud,  long,  and  vociferous  —  his 
hands  being  extended  in  front,  and  sometimes 
waving  over  his  head  —  while  every  word 
seemed  to  fall  like  a  shaft  from  a  thunder- 
cloud among  the  trembling  sinners  of  the 
congregation.  The  preacher  strained  his  voice 
to  the  very  utmost,  until  at  last  ho  became 
hoarse,  croaky,  and  incohenmt ;  ho  rather 
gasped  than  shouted,  and  when  ho  could  scarce- 
ly articulate  any  longer,  he  suddenly  descend- 
ed from  the  fortismmo,  and  jianting  from  the 
terrible  eflRjrts  he  had  made, closed  the  prayer 
in  his  natural  voice. 

The  ajipeal  itself  was  as  exciting  as  the  man- 
ner of  him  who  was  interceding  ;  he  depicted 
the  state  of  the  lost  sinner;  the  wrath  of  (iod 
and  the  terrors  of  the  damned  ;  and  at  irregu- 
lar intervals,  during 'the  continuance  of  his 
invocation,  cries  and  groans  could  bo  hoard 
from  those  around  him.  Some  would  clap 
their  hands  in  ecstasy ;  some  raise  them  in 
despair  Some  w<<uld  cry  out  suddenly, "  Bless 
the  Lord,  bless  the  Lord !"  "  Lord,  save,  or  I 
perish !"  "  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  upon  me !" 
••I  am  lost,  forever  lost!"  "Odlodl"  "OLord!" 
till  at  one  time  it  seemed  as  if  each  one  of  the 
whole  congregation  was  shouting  in  a  different 


key,  in  a  different  tongue,  to  a  different  God — 
a  bedlam  lei  loose — plunging  the  timid  in 
apprehension,  and  forcing  alann  upon  the 
weak-minded,  while  many  nervous  persona 
were  affected  by  the  most  painful  emotions. 
Another  hymn  was  then  sung  in  a  minor 
strain,  and  at  its  close  it  was  evident  that  the 
feelings  of  most  present  were  in  a  sufficiently 
plastic  state,  ready  to  receive  any  inpression. 

Mr.  Baker's  pulpit-companion  then  stood 
before  the  people  ;  he  was  an  older  man,  mild- 
looking,  and  less  robust ;  his  lank,  gray 
hair  hung  down  behind,  covering  his  coat- 
collar,  and  in  front  it  was  pact'.-d  in  the 
centre.  He  waited  with  lugubrious  aspect 
until  all  were  settled  in  their  seats  ;  until 
every  rustle  and  cough  had  subsided  ;  then, 
drawing  a  long  sigh,  he  gave  out  as  liis  text, 
the  three  last  verses  of  the  third  chapter  of 
Lamentations,  "  Render  unto  them  a  recom- 
pense, O  Lord !  according  to  the  work  of  their 
hands.  Give  them  sorrow  of  heart,  tiiy  curse 
unto  them.  Persecute  and  destroy  them  in 
anger  from  under  the  heavens  of  the  Lord." 

The  sermon  which  followed — though  not  a 
fair  illustration  of  the  text — was  a  terrible 
picture  of  the  woe  which  would  surely  result 
from  "  wickedness  and  unbelief ;"  these 
words  ho  repeated  several  times,  as  being 
synonymous.  .The  wicked  man  might  grow 
up  and  prosper  for  a  while,  and  might  con- 
sider the  wretched  enjoyments  of  this  world 
as  only  worth  living  for ;  who  could  see  no 
sin  in  their  delusive  attractions,  or,  if  ho 
did,  would  put  off  repentance  ;  who  was  wil- 
ling to  procrastinate,  in  order  to  dally  a  little 
longer  with  the  vanities  of  life.  Such  a  one 
might  perhaps  find  himself  suddenly  cut  off, 
cursed  by  God,  and  bewailing  his  misery  in 
the  lowest  depths,  in  company  with  scoffers 
and  unbelievers.  It  was  "  a  terrible  thing  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God."  To 
secure  heaven,  every  idol  should  be  struck 
down.  No  sacrifice  should  bo  considered  too 
great  to  insure  eternal  happiness.  The 
treasures  of  the  heart,  friends,  himie,  children, 
were  unworthy  to  be  permitted  to  stand  in  the 
way,  and,  if  necessary,  these  —  even  these  — 
should  be  forgotten  for  the  "  Friend  of  sin- 
ners. " 

During  the  discourse,  the  preacher  at  times 
became  most  excited  ;  his  voice  was  loud,  and 
his  gesticulation  often  wild  and  rapid,  stamp- 
ing, thumping  the  desk,  or  clapping  his  hands. 
Ho  used  a  battery  of  threatening  texts,  and 
a  profusion  of  sounding  words,  to  depict  (Uid's 
anger ;  and  after  ho  had  drawn  a  lively 
picture  of  ctct'nal  torments,  he  lowered  liia 
voice,  and  cautioned,  beseeched,  entreated, 
yea,  commanded,  his  terror-stricKen  hearers 
to  "  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,"  to  accept 
"  God's  plan  of  salvation"  ere  it  bo  forever  too 
lato.  Alas!  they  might  now  hear  the  voice 
of  pleading — the  voice  of  God's  minister  for 
the  last  time  ;  and  it  might  bo  that  ere  the 
rise  of  another  sun,  some  now  present 
might  stand  terror-stricken  at  the  bar  of  an 
ott'endod  God.  But,  ho  said,  there  was  still 
hope,  another  opportunity  yet  offered  ;  they 
were  as  yet,  thank  God,  out  of  hell — here  ho 
raised  his  voice  again,  and  thumjied  tho 
pulpit ;  and  lowering  it  to  a  hush,  said,  "  Tho 


m 


f*-.jit 


124 


EXETER   HALL. 


:'\    ? 


■-•••*«■: 


1: 


Mediator  is  still  pleading  ;  now,  yes,  n&w,  is  the 
accepted  time,  and  by  jjrcsenting  yourselves 
this  night  before  the  mercy-scat,  God,  even 
our  (tod,  may  be  yet  gracious." 

When  the  discourse  was  ended,  there  was  a 
feeling  of  relief  ;  some  began  to  breathe  more 
freely,  but  many  others  were  deplorably  east 
down.  The  preachers  left  the  pulpit  and 
joined  their  brethren  below.  An  invitation  Avas 
then  given  to  all  those  who  felt  a  desire  "  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  "  to  approach,  and 
openly  present  themselves  before  the  Lord,  in 
order  that  the  people  of  Ood  might  unite  with 
them  in  prayer  for  their  deliverance. 

"  Come,  friends,  come !"  said  one  of  the 
preachers,  rubbing  his  hands  in  a  business-like 
way,  "  come  to  the  Lord  ;  he  is  waiting  to  be 
gracious — yes,  poor  sinner,  he  is  waiting  for 
you  !  We  shall  now  sing  a  few  verses,  and, 
as  we  do  so,  let  every  one  who  thirsts  draw 
nigh." 

When  he  was  speaking,  a  great  many  did 
go  forward  and  kneel  at  the  railing  ;  four  out 
of  every  six  of  the  "  penitents  "  were  women,  a 
majority  of  whom  were  young ;  there  were 
also  several  ^ung  men.  Others  remained  in 
their  pews,  as  if  to  await  a  more  direct  and 
pres.sing  invitation  from  the  ])rcacliere,  who 
were  sure  to  move  about  among  the  congre- 
gation, and  urge  repentance  upon  such,  as 
might  be  found  to  be  most  easily  entreated. 

The  old  Wesleyan  hymn, 

"Come,  yc  sinners,  poor  nnJnpody, 
Weak  und  wounded,  sick  and  sore," 

was  now  sung  out  briskly  by  preachers, 
penitents,  and  by  all  around  the  "  anxious- 
eeats  ;"  the  choir  in  the  gallery  took  no  part. 
After  a  couple  of  verses  were  finished,  prayer 
again  followed  ;  one,  very  loud  and  siiecial,  was 
offered  up  in  behalf  of  those  "  under  convic- 
tion :"  sighs,  and  groans,  and  mutterings 
could  be  heard  in  every  direction  ;  and  from 
those  who  came  to  mock,  an  occasional  titter 
would  follow  the  uncouth  or  extravagant  mani- 
festation of  feeling  by  some  more  impressible 
penitent  than  ordinary.  Presently,  every  one 
who  c  nild  pray  began  ;  the  grave,  the  lively, 
the  fearful,  the  terrified,  the  hopeful  and  the  ex- 
ulting, all  were  heard  addressing  the  "throne 
of  grace  "  together,  in  the  most  irregular  and 
disorder!}  manner ;  and  high  abov«  all,  in  al- 
to, resounded  the  prayer  of  one  local  preacher, 
wliose  powerful  voice  and  still  more  powerful 
lungs  were  equal  to  such  an  emergency. 

Near  one  poor  sinner,  who  waa  shouting 
wildly  for  mercy,  there  sat  another  on  the 
floor  in  the  lowest  state  of  despondency  ;  and 
then  a  [)ious  brother  or  sister  would  stoop 
down  and  whisper,  "  Pray  on,  sister,  pray  on. 
God  is  willing  to  be  gracious  ;  do  not  give  up." 
And  very  often  this  peculiar  process  of  conver- 
sion would  force  a  shout  for  mercy,  or  a  shriek 
of  des])air  from  many  who  almost  thought 
themselves  forever  lost.  Meantime,  during 
the  holy  uproar,  one  or  two  preachers  and 
a  few  of  the  converted  and  experienced  mem- 
bers of  the  church  went  slowly  about  from 
pew  to  pew,  now  pleading  with  one,  now 
entreating  another,  "  to  turn  to  the  Lord  ;" 
now  making  a  fraternal  inquiry  as  to  the 
State  of  a  sister's  soul,  or  whispering  a  word 


of  encouragement  to  a  brother  struggling 
underhis  heavy  burden  of  sin.  Mrs.  Baker  and 
other  matured  female  members  were  also 
engaged  in  the  same  way- -tendering  pious 
consolation. 

At  intervals,  as  some  penitent  professed  to 
have  found  "  peace,"  exclamations  Avould  fol- 
low from  manv — "  Praise  the  Lord  !"  "  Bless 
the  Lord!"  "'Glory,  glory !"  "Hallelujah!" 
"  Amen !"  and  others,  under  the  impulse  of 
the  moment,  would  cry  out  and  clap  liands  as 
if  to  signal  the  triumph.  Then  all  would 
rise  and  sing  again. 

Mr.  Baker,  having  passed  from  one  to  another 
in  the  mean  time,  now  addressed  a  ])lain 
woilving-man,  who  appeared  to  be  looking 
on  with  the  greatest  indifference  ;  he  stood, 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  leaning  leisurely 
against  one  of  the  pillars  supjiorting  the 
gallery,  quite  unmoved  by  the  excitement ; 
evidciiiiy  one  of  llie  many  who  regard  this 
peculiar  method  of  siwritual  renovation  as  a 
delusion. 

"  Brother,"  said  Mr.  Baker,  gently  laying 
his  hand  »jn  the  man's  shoulder,  "  how  is  the 
Lord  dealing  with  your  soul  ?  do  you  feel  that 
you  have  no  interest  in —  " 

"  See  here,"  cried  the  man  abruptly, "  I  want 
none  of  jiour  gammon — no,  I  don't.  Go  on 
and  make  fools  and  idiots  of  them  before  you  ; 
they  are  fools,  but  the  knaves  that  make  them 
what  they  are  should  suffer — ay,  they  should." 

Mr.  Baker  started  back  as  if  stung  by  a 
scorpion  ;  he  looked  sharply  at  the  man's  face 
in  the  dim  light  •  it  was  a  face  not  altogether 
strange ;  he  began  to  feel  angry,  and  for  a 
moment  scrutinized  every  feature. 

"  Yes,  look  at  me,"  said  the  man,  with  the 
same  imperturbable  coolness  ;  "  if  you  don't 
know  me,  I  know  you — yes,  I  do  ;  and  you'd 
know  me  better  if  I  could  put  sudi  chaps  as  you 
in  the  common  Bridewell  for  what  you've  been 
doing  ;  you  would  know  me  then,  you  would." 

"  How  dare  you  come  here  and  speak  to  me 
this  way  in  the  house  of  the  liord  V"  said  Mr. 
Baker,  getting  very  much  irritated. 

"  House  of  the  Lord  !  house  of  the  dev — !" 

"  Wretch  !"  cried  Mr.  Baker,  without  giving 
the  man  time  to  finish  the  last  syllable  of  a 
profane  word.  "  Did  you  come  here  to  pollute 
the  sanctuary,  and  interrupt  divine  service? 
I  shall  have  you  arrested." 

"To  pollute  the  sanctuary,"  said  the  man, 
repeating  the  words  scornfully  ;  "  better  call 
it  a  mad-house — that's  what  it  is.  Do  you  call 
that  divine  service?"  said  he,  pointing  to  the 
fearful  religious  confusion  before  him.  "  Do 
you  call  them  poor  creat.ires  as  ones  bavin' 
their  comnifm  senses?  and  do  yon  call  that 
poor  raving  lady  yonder — as  is  walking  up  and 
down  afore y(^  all— doyoucall  her  converted  V" 

"Ah!"  said  Mr.  Baker.  "  I  know  who  you 
are  now.  Did  you  com4  here  to  scoff,  at  your 
master's  bidding?" 

"  I  came,  but  it  was  not  to  listen  to  your 
stufV';  I  came,  at  his  bidding,  to  see  after  that 
poor  lady  ;  y  u  ought  to  be  jjroud  of  your 
work — you  ought.  But  the  law  is  on  your 
side  ;  only  for  that,  yes — only  for  that.  Well, 
if  you  were  a  man  as  had  human  nature  in  you, 
you'd  have  her  away  from  here  long  ago  ;  but 
you're  not,"  said  Robert,  now  getting  excited, 


EXETER  HALL. 


125 


Eak«"ruiid 
wert!  also 
iug  pious 

•ofespod  to 
ivould  I'ol- 
!"  "BltPS 
lUelujali!" 
npiilse  of 
)  luinds  aB 
all  would 

to  anotlior 

I  a  plain 
e  looking 

lie  stood, 
Icisurt'ly 
rtiiij;  the 
citement ; 
'gnrd  this 
ation  as  a 

ly  laying 
liow  is  the 
lu  I'eel  that 

y, "  I  want 
t.  Go  on 
cfore  you  ; 
iiako  them 
y  should." 
xmfr  by  a 
man's  face 
altojjethor 
and  for  a 

,  with  the 
yon  don't 
and  you'd 
apsasyou 
)u'vo  been 
•u  would." 
leak  tome 
said  Mr. 

dev— !" 
)nt  ffivingf 
lable  of  a 
topolluto 

service  ? 

the  man, 
>etter  call 
()  you  call 
n<r  to  the 
ini.  "Do 
es  havin' 
call  that 

II  fr  up  and 
ivcrtedV" 

who  yon 
f,  at  your 

to  your 
after  that 
of  your 
on  vour 
vt.  Well, 
10  in  you, 
njfo  ;  but 
[J  excited, 


"  you're  like  the  rest  of  your  tribe ;  there's 
nothing  good  only  what  ymi  have.  You 
should  be  made  to  pay  for  your  deviltry — you 
should." 

Robert  never  flinched  an  inch  as  he  gave 
his  opinion  so  freely.  His  resolute  manner 
somewhat  cowed  Mr.  Baker,  who  now,  as  if 
struck  by  what  had  been  said,  or  by  some 
fancied  eccentricity  in  Mrs.  Mannors— u])on 
whom  he  had  steadfastly  looked  .since  Roi)ert 
had  pointed  toward  her — went  quickly  away 
without  making  any  reply,  and  whispered  to 
his  wife,  who  was  still  busy  among  the  peni- 1 
tents. 

"Ay,  you  may  go  now,"  said  Robert,  in  a  \ 
kind  of  growling  under-tone,  as  the  preacher 
walked  up  hurriedly  between  the  pews.  "  You 
may  go,  but  you're  too  late.  Your  prayers 
will  never  more  do  her  any  good — never. 
She's  not  the  first  that's  been  here  to  save  her 
soul  and  lose  her  reason — not  the  first." 

At  this  time,  and  since  the  close  of  the  ser- 
mon, Mrs.  Mannors  had  been  walking  alone, 
backward  and  forward,  in  a  passage  behind 
the  pulpit  leading  to  a  "  class-room  "  or  kind 
of  vestry.  Pier  bonnet  was  off,  and  her  un- 
bound hair  fell  upon  her  shoulders.  She 
would  occasionally  stop  and  look  at  the  con- 
fused scene  before  her  with  a  frightened  or 
bewildered  gaze ;  or  pause  to  listen  for  a 
moment  to  the  tumult  of  dismal  sounds,  and 
then  suddenly  dart  back,  as  if  terrified  at 
something  she  had  heard.  Her  lips  moved 
continu  illy,  and  at  times  she  would  heave  a 
deep  sigh,  and  in  a  low  melancholy  voice 
would  utter,  "  I  am  lost,  I  am  lost ;  0  God  I 
oave  me." 

It  was  noticed  that  the  first  few  evenings 
of  her  attendance  at  the  revival  she  went 
amongst  the  penitents  and  prayed  with  them, 
as  did  Mrs.  Baker  and  other  members  of  her 
"  class  ;"  s!ie  was  rather  more  demonstrative 
than  usual ;  then  all  at  onco  became  demure 
and  reserved,  and  for  the  past  night  or  two 
kept  mostly  by  herself,  doing  nothing  very 

f)articular  to  attract  attention  ;  indeed,  if  she 
lad,  the  revival  exoitcmeiit  being  at  its 
height  would  prevent  even  a  very  extrava- 
gant act  from  being  observed ;  for  where 
nearly  all  seemed  for  the  time  to  abandon 
ordinary  decorum,  one  perhaps  more  singular- 
ly afllicted  than  Mrs.  Mannors  might  not  be 
suspected. 

Mrs.  Baker,  followed  by  her  husband,  went 
toward  the  ])assage  when*  Mrs.  Mannors  was 
walking.  They  stopped  at  a  little  distance 
to  watch  her  movements,  and  see  whether 
they  could  be  justified  in  assuming  that  her 
mind  was  impaired.  The  scrutiny  must  have 
satisfied  them ;  a  look  of  deep  meaning 
jiassed  froni  one  to  the  other,  and  though 
they  8too<l  closer  to  her  than  at  first,  she  pacwl 
on  moodily  as  before,  without  raising  her  eyes 
from  the  floor  or  changing  the  sad  rxpression 
of  her  face.  It  was  pitiful  to  see  this  wreck  ; 
and  the  preaclun',  anxious  to  attract  her  atten- 
tion and  speak  to  her,  now  stood  right  in  her 
way — the  passage  itself  was  rather  gloomy — 
and  when  she  suildenly  came  upon  his  dark 
figure,  she  started  back  in  alarm,  raised  her 
linnds,  gave  a  wild  cry,  and  fell  trembling  on 
the  floor. 


Mrs.  Baker  and  one  or  two  sisters  raised  the 
demented  woman,  and  led  her  into  the  room 
back  of  the  churcli.  The  cry,  though  pierc- 
ing, did  not  seem  to  disconcert  the  revivalists 
for  any  time — it  was  taken  to  be  one  of  the 
ordinary  ett'ectsof  that  spiritual  despair  which 
is  said  to  precede  the  assurance  of  heavenly 
reconciliation  ;  and  wh  le  fruitless  efforts  and 
prayers  were  made  in  the  vestry  to  win  back 
reason,  and  dispel  the  frightful  apparitions  of 
a  frenzied  brain,  every  means  was  used  in  the 
church  to  bring  others  to  the  dangerous  verge 
of  despondency  ;  and  the  continued  sighs,  and 
groans,  and  shouts  of  alarmed  sinners  in  the 
sanctuary, given  to  appease  an  "angry God," 
could  now  be  heard  in  that  closed  room,  like 
the  wailing  of  a  distant  tempest,  the  rusli  of 
waves,  and  the  doleful  death-cry  of  struggling, 
drowning  men. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

It  was  late  that  night  before  Mrs.  Mannors 
could  be  induced  to  leave  the  class-r<wm.  She 
had  stealthily  made  her  escape  from  lier  own 
house  in  the  evening,  and  dreadM  to  return 
to  her  home.  It  was,  idie  said,  the  "  city  of 
destruction,"  and  she  fancied  she  had  com- 
mitted the  unpardonable  sin  by  remaining 
there  so  long.  She  never  siioko  of  he'r  chil- 
dren, and  was  silent  when  their  names  were 
mentioned.  She  seemed  to  think  that  Hannah 
and  her  husband  were  but  specious  fiends, 
endeavoring  to  lure  her  on  to  ])erdition  :  her 
insanity  was  undoubted,  and  she  could  no 
longer  be  allowed  to  go  about  unattended 
particularly  aa  William  yet  continued  in  a 
very  critical  state.  Mrs.  Baker  and  another 
pious  friend,  however,  remained  Mith  her 
until  ilvi  next  day,  and,  as  she  grow  no  better, 
it  was  deemed  advisable  to  have  her  removed 
for  a  time  ;  and  Mr.  Mannors  consented  that 
she  should  be  taken  to  Mrs.  Baker's  residence  ; 
ho  felt  satisfied  that  she  would  receive  every 
attention,  and  that,  in  the  moan  time,  it  would 
bo  a  friendly  asylum. 

Mr.  Capel  returned  the  day  afterward,  much 
to  the  satisfaction  of  all  in  Hampstead  Cot- 
tage :  he  was  astonished  at  the  suddenness 
of  the  calamity  that  had  falh.'u  upon  hia 
friend,  and  no  one  could  be  more  assiduous 
in  endeavoring  to  mitigate  the  severe  trials  to 
which  ho  was  subjected.  Mary,  from  watch- 
ing day  and  .'liglit  at  the  bedside  of  her 
brother,  was  sadly  changtul ;  and  poor  Han- 
nah's eyes  were  red  with  weeping,  as  well  for 
the  woo  which  had  fallen  i.i])on  her  mistress 
as  on  account  of  the  disease  which  she  believed 
was  slowly  but  suriily  wearing  out  tin;  young 
life  of  (me  to  whom  she  was  so  much  attached. 

How  lonely  the  whole  i>hici!  appeared ; 
there  was  but  little  dift'erence  between  noon 
and  midnight.  Ominous  looking  clouds  came 
along,  and  streamed  down  upon  the  house  aa 
they  passed  away;  and  the  tr(>es  around 
sigiietl  audibly  as  if  an  October  wind— a  pre- 
mature blast —^were  about  to  rob  tlu-m  of  their 
foliage.  The  long  hours  of  the  day  as  well  as 
of  the  night  sped  slowly  by,  as  if  they  wcto 
willing  to  slacken  pac(!  and  add  a  few  mo- 
ments longer  to  the  lingering,  limited  exist- 


;.:tj; 


!iVi< 


|t  ..► 


, 


«  I 


126 


EXETER   HALL. 


Lmm*^'*^ 


a 


It 

ill 


-,  i* 


■  *||g.n, 

■lit:  ,;.^ 


Nn.i, 


-  r 


ence  of  the  younjj  sufferer.  Alas !  thought 
Mr.  Capel,  as  ho  sat  alone  in  the  once  pleasant 
parlor,  what  a  shadow  is  human  lite — how 
evanescent !  It  is  but  as  yesterday  since  one, 
apparently  happy  and  sound  in  mind,  wel- 
comed me  like  a  mother  to  this  place,  told  me 
of  her  dreams,  and  visions,  and  hopes,  and  of 
the  bright  future  in  the  distance ;  now  that 
mind  is  a  blank,  every  pleasant  and  maternal 
recollection  is  blotted  out,  and  she  may  go 
down  to  the  grave  without  any  dawning  of 
reason.  It  seems  but  an  hour  since  the  gentle 
laugh  of  him  who  wap  her  pride — but  now  in 
the  clutches  of  death — was  heard  like  music 
among  the  flowers,  a  laugh  that  came  so 
oft  with  the  sunlight,  but  which  may  never 
be  heard  again.   • 

What  a  cloud,  dark  and  unpropitious,  settled 
already  over  this  once  happy  home !  misfor- 
tunes had  come  there  together ;  and  even  now 
many  of  the  pious  Avere  free  to  remark  that  it 
was  a  judgment — "just  what  might  have  been 
expected  from  unbelief!"  But  then  it  was 
one  more  calamitous  to  the  believing  wife 
than  to  the  unbelieving  husband ;  if  the  trial 
was  sore  to  him,  his  reason  was  not  withered, 
he  was  not  doomed  to  be  the  living  sepulchre 
for  a  "  dead  soul."  O  orthodoxy  I  how  un- 
charitable are  thy  impulses ! 

The  patience  and  manly  fortitude  of  Mr. 
Manners  surprised  Mr.  Capel.  He  could  see 
that  his  friend  was  cut  to  the  quick,  yet  bore 
all  most  heroically.  Now  tenderly  moistening 
the  parched  lip  or  cooling  the  fevered  brow 
of  his  prostrate  child ;  now  whispering  hope 
and  encouragement  to  his  daughter,  even 
when  hope  could  scarcely  find  a  resting-i)lace 
in  his  own  heart ;  and  then  trying  to  cheer  up 
Hannah,  whose  generous  nature  was  almost 
overcome.  Her  mental  resources  were  insuf- 
ficient under  the  stroke ;  the  oft  luminous 
pages  of  Bunyan  were  now  dark  and  depress- 
ing. Mr.  Manners  went  about  quietly,  doing 
every  thing  in  his  jwwer  to  heal  the  wounds 
of  others,  when  it  was  but  too  apparent  that 
the  dart  had  entered  deeply  into  his  own 
bosom ;  and,  though  forced  to  taste  of  the  bit- 
ter cup  that  fate  had  presented,  yet,  with  great 
consideration  for  the  feelings  of  Hannah,  and 
of  some  religious  friends  Avho  called  from  time 
to  time,  he  never  alluded  to  the  particular 
cause  of  his  wife's  aflhction,  and  never  uttered 
a  reproachful  word. 

Mr.  Capel,  however,  was  satisfied  that  that 
affliction  did  not  arise  from  any  latent  disor- 
der of  the  mind,  or  from  any  inherited  tenden- 
cy to  aberration  ;  it  was  the  effect  of  unnatu- 
ral religious  excitement  upon  a  too  sensitive 
organization,  inducing  a  faith  in  dreams  and 
visions,  and  gradually  producing  some  i)leas- 
ing  hallucination  that  lingered  and  was  nour- 
ished, and  became  a  reality,  and  which  then 
shaped  itself  into  a  monster,  a  usurper,  which 
overpowered  reason  and  reigned  supreme 
in  mental  devastation.  It  has  been  the 
fate  of  ten  thousand  others.  Alas!  what 
intellects  have  been  crushed  and  ruined 
beneath  the  gilded  car  of  a  pomj)ous  and 
imperious  suijerstition.  How  many  enthu- 
siasts have  been  broken  under  tlie  ponde- 
rous wheel  of  the  Christian  Juggernaut;  and 
the    useless    and  maddening    pageant    still 


moves  on,  amid  the  groans  of  victims  and  the 
hosannahs  of  priests. 

The  unwearied  Hannah  still  watched  by 
the  side  of  William ;  his  sister,  who  was  much 
fatigued,  tried  to  snatch  a  little  rest  in  dozing 
upon  a  sofa  near  by,  and  lie  had  lain  compara- 
tively quiet  for  some  minutes  listening  to  the 
heavy  rain  which  now  pattered  against  the 
window-panes. 

"Hannah,"  said  he,  in  a  \  ry  faint  voice, 
"  why  doesn't  ma  come  here  ?  I  want  her  now 
to  tell  me  of  the  bright  angels  she  used  to 
dream  so  often  about,  I  want  her  now  to  let 
me  see  them  ;  she  often  told  me  how  beauti- 
ful they  were,  and  that  I  should  know  them, 
and  they  know  me  ;  I  wish  I  could  see  them 
to-day — yes,  today." 

Hannah  leant  over  his  pillow  to  catch  every 
word ;  she  was  painfully  struck  with  the 
change  in  his  manner  and  appearance,  and  her 
heart  beat  quickly  with  foreboding  ])ulsation8. 

"  Your  ma  is  tired,  darling,  and  is  resting, 
like  Miss  Mary.  She  will  soon  be  here,  I 
hope  ;   but  she  is  tired  now,  very  tired." 

"  Poor  ma ! — tired  and  asleep.  I  am  tired 
too — very  tired  and  weary — and  must  soon 
sleep.  1  would  like  to  have  her  come  soon 
and  kiss  me,  and  tell  me  about  the  angels 
again  ;  for  I  am  tired,  and  may  sleep  a  long, 
long  time." 

She  listened  to  his  failing  voice,  and  made 
no  reply ;  she  could  not  then  speak,  but  one  of 
her  big  tears  fell  upon  his  pale  cheek. 

By  an  effort,  he  raised  his  little  thin  hand, 
and  let  it  rest  upon  her  dark  hair ;  he  looked 
at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  Poor, 
poor  Hannah!" 

"  O  my  darling  child !  O  my  darling 
child  !  I've  prayed  for  you,  but  now  I  wish 
my  heart  would  break,"  she  sobbed  in  a  low 
voice.  These  were  the  only  words  to  which 
she  could  give  utterance,  as  the  tears  coursed 
down  her  cheeks  ;  and  she  pressed  the  small 
hand  to  her  lips  as  if  she  never  intended  to 
let  it  go  again. 

He  looked  intently  at  her  for  some  time  in  si- 
lence, a  look  such  as  one  of  her  blest  ideals 
might  have  given  to  sorrowing  humanity, 
and  she  in  turn  tried  to  restrain  her  tears  and 
seem  cheerful. 

"  Why  do  you  cry,  pjoor  Hannah  ? — don't  cry 
forme!  you  know  we  must  all  sleep.  Ma 
often  told  us  that  we  shojLild  all  sleep,  and 
awake  again  at  the  resurrection— what  is  the 
rcsurvcction  ?" 

"  The  resurrection,  dear,"  said  she,  after  some 
hesitation,  "is  when  we  get  up  to  go  to 
heaven,  after  we  die." 

"  Up  from  where — from  sleep  ?" 

"  Up  fix)m  our  graves !  we  shall  all  get  up 
at  the  last  day." 

"  From  our  graves — from  our  graves,"  he 
repeated  the  words  slowly,  and  then  pondered 
over  their  solemn  meaning. 

"  Will  e\cty  body  get  up  to  go  to  hea- 
ven?" 

"  I  hope  so,  dear,"  said  she,  trying  to  evade 
a  direct  answer  ;  "  Oh  !  how  I  wish  it  was  to- 
morrow !  all  to  be  together  again." 

He  remained  for  a  time  in  deep  thought, 
during  which  ho  watched  the  wearied  face  of 
her  who  was  now  to  him  as  a  mother,  and 


■.ii'  i' 


ms  and  the 

i^atchod  by 
:>  was  much 
it  in  doziu^ 
in  compura- 
ning  to  the 
igaiust  tho 

faint  voice, 
mt  her  now 
he  used  to 
now  to  h'l 
liow  beauti- 
;now  them, 
d.  see  them 

catch  every 

:  with   the 

ice.  and  her 

'  ])u1sations. 

.  is  resting, 

ho  here,  I 

tired." 

I  am  tired 

must  soon 

come  Boon 

the  angels 

eep  a  long, 

3,  and  made 

:,  but  one  of 

eek. 

J  thin  hand, 

;   he  looked 

aid,  "  Poor, 

ny  darling 
low  I  wish 
pd  in  a  low 
is  to  which 
ars  coursed 
the  wnall 
ntendcd  to 

e  time  in  si- 
)lest  ideals 
humanity, 
r  tears  and 

— don't  cry 

Bleep.     Ma 

sleep,  and 

what  is  tho 

.  after  some 
to  go   to 


all  get  up 

rraves,"  ho 
u  pondered 

go  to  hea- 

ig  to  evade 
I  it  was  to- 

p  thought, 
ried  face  of 
lother,  and 


EXETER   HALL. 


127 


then  said  to  her  in  a  whisper,  "  Tell  ma  to 
come  soon — very  soon,  I  shall  sleep  to-night ; 
1  ut  I  must  sleep  again  to-morrow,  yes,  toiiujr- 
row.  Hannah,  stay  near  me  until  tlien,  uud 
I  will  como  buck  at  tlio  resurrection." 

Thero  was  a  deep  silence  after  this  pro- 
phetic warning,  and  Ilanuali  had  tc  leave  the 
room  to  stifle  tho  terrible  grief  which  tried  to 
find  utterance. 

She  soon  heard  his  feeble  voice  again,  and 
when  she  bent  down  low  to  catch  his  words, 
he  whispered : 

"  Won't  you  bring  me  Flounce  ?  I  must  see 
poor  Flounce  to-day.  Do,  do  let  me  see  him 
again." 

Presently  tho  afFectionatp  animal  followed 
Hannah  into  tho  darkened  room  ;  his  head 
hung  down,  as  if  lu!  anticipated  a  last  leave- 
taking.  A  chair  was  drawn  close  to  the  bed  ; 
he  sat  upon  it,  and,  suppressing  every  joyful 
demonstration,  looked  mournfully  into  the 
large  eyes  of  his  young  mnster,  gently  licking 
tho  hand  that  was  now  slowly  extended  to- 
ward him.  The  dog's  subdued  manner 
touched  the  tender  feelings  of  the  boy  ;  he 
would  have  wept,  but  tho  fountain  of  his  tears 
was  forever  sealed. 

Flounce  left  the  room  with  reluctance, 
and  after  his  removal  he  lay  tl«3  remainder  of 
the  day  outside  in  the  wet  grass,  under  the 
rain  in  tho  lonely  garden,  looking  up  at  the 
curtained  window  of  William's  room  and 
whining  piteously. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  next  day  ;  the  sun 
was  setting  in  glorious  effulgence.  A  great 
white  cloud,  like  a  mountain  of  light,  was 
moving  slowly  onward  toward  the  east ;  the 
red  and  golden  beams  which  now  rested  upon 
it  made  it  appear  as  if  it  were  the  throne  of  a 
divinity  ;  and  ti)  the  imagination  it  might  have 
been  made  the  foundation  for  any  sublime 
aerial  structure.  The  robin's  lone  farewell- 
notes  were  heard  in  the  garden  ;  but  all  else 
was  still,  not  more  still,  however,  than  the 
living  and  dying  who  looked  through  the 
open  window  upon  the  beautiful  mellow  light 
of  eve  slowly  fading  away  in  the  western 
sky. 

At  William's  request,  his  bed  was  moved 
so  that  ho  could  look  out  through  the  win- 
dow and  take  his  last  view  of  earth  ;  and  as 
his  wan  face  was  turned  toward  the  sunset,  the 
rays  that  fell  around  it  only  served  to  show 
more  plainly  the  death-shadows  that  were  al- 
ready creeping  in  and  resting  ujion  his  fea- 
tures —  shadows  that  no  morning  light  would 
ever  more  dispel.  Hannah  looked  awe- 
struck ;  it  seemed  then  to  h«T  as  if  the  very 
portals  of  heaven  were  opened  to  receive  the 
nure  spirit  of  a  departing  ])ilgrim.  But  Mary, 
l)ale  and  worn,  could  not  turn  lier  head  away 
from  her  brother ;  now  burying  her  face  in 
his  pillow,  now  pressing  her  lips  upon  his  cold 
foreliead  that  was  already  damp  with  the  dew 
of  death ;  she  saw  the  flickering  of  the  little 
lamp,  and  would  watch  imtil  it  was  blown  out 
forever. 

Mr.  Capel  and  Mr.  Mannors  stood  silently 
by  ;  to  one  it  was  an  hour  of  the  darkest  trial, 
and  the  heavy  bursting  sighs  of  that  fatlier's 
breast  could  alono  truly  tell  how  the  deep 
fountain  of  liis  affection  was  overflowing ;  and 


Mr.  Capel's  eyes  were  suffused,  as  if  he  were 
waiting  by  the  side  of  a  dying  brother ;  it  was 
a  death-scene  which  should  never  leave  his 
memory. 

"  Pop,"  said  the  dying  boy,  raising  his  fee- 
ble voice,  and  locjking  eagerly  upward  at  tho 
magnificent  sun-lit  cloud.  "  Pop,  that  is  the 
summerland,  and  ma  is  there ;  oh !  I  see  her 
among  such  a  crowd  of  angels  I  She  is  now 
beckoning  to  me  —  see,  Hbnnali,  ma  is  wait- 
ing! how  beautiful  she  looks!  but  I'm  getting 
very  cold  ;  won't  you  sing  again  for  me,  Han- 
nah V  1  am  sleepy — I  must  eoyn  sleep — sing  for 
me  now  " 

Poor  Hannah  struggled  to  comply  with  hia 
last  recpiest  to  her,  ancl,  while  all  were  silent- 
ly weeping,  she  sung  in  a  low,  broken  voice 
a  veise  from  one  of  his  mother's  favorite 
hymna — 

"  Lift  np  yonr  eyes  of  ftiitli  and  see 
Saints  and  an<;els  joined  in  one ;   ■ 
What  a  coiintlcfs  company 
iitaud  before  yon  dazzling  throne !" 

When  she  had  sung  thus  far,  he  fiiade  an 
attempt  to  raise  himself  from  the  pillow,  but 
his  head  fell  back  powerless  ;  aC  was  a  last  ef- 
f(jrt  of  his  tender  nature  to  ofl'er  all  an  em- 
brace ;  he  could  but  just  whisper.  "  Kiss  me, 
pa ;  kiss  me,  Hannah  ;  kiss  me,  Pop  ;  I  am  get- 
ting very  tired,  and  must  nr/W  sleep ;  but  I 
will  come  back  again  with  ma  at  the  resurrec- 
tion— good  night !" 

The  evening  sun  just  then  disappeared  ;  tho 
great  cloud  stood  alone  in  the  ruddy  sky,  and 
William  closed  his  eyes  in  that  last  sleep,  and 
went  off  to  the  real  or  fancied  summerland. 

Days,  dreary  days,  had  passed  since  the  fresh 
mound  was  raised  in  Hampstead  churchyard, 
and  fresh  flowers  had  been  almost  daily  scat- 
tered upon  the  little  grave  by  a  sister's  hand, 
lu  the  (juiet  evenings,  when  Hannah  felt  lone- 
ly, she  would  go  and  pit  by  the  headstone  in 
the  cemetery  and  watch  the  western  sky,  as  if 
expecting  some  recognition  from  him  who 
had  departed ;  but  no  signal  appeared ;  no  token 
ever  came  ;  no  voice  from  across  the  lone  sea 
ever  reached  her  ear  ;  no  secret  was  revealed ; 
but  the  future  to  her,  as  well  as  to  many 
others  still  kept  its  own  solemn  mystery. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

One  month  after  the  sad  scene  witnessed 
by  Mr.  Capel  in  the  house  of  his  afllictod 
friend,  he  received  a  peremptory  note  from 
the  Kev.  James  Baker,  requesting  his  attend- 
ance at  tho  quarterly  meeting,  to  commence 
on  the  ftdlowing  Saturday  in  the  Hampstead 
Methodist  church.  It  had  boen  mooti'd  about 
for  some  time  that  Mr.  (,'apel  was  strangely 
inditt'erent  and  lukewarm  in  his  religious 
duties  ;  that  his  ministrations  were  irregular  ; 
and  that  his  manner  indicated  he  had  no  heart 
in  the  "  work."  Some  said  tliat  he  was  but  a 
mere  formalist ;  others  that  he  was  foppish  ; 
others  that  he  was  popish  ;  and  many  asserted 
that  he  was  assuming  clerical  airs  more  like  a 
high-churchman  than  comporting  himself  as 
an  humble  preacher  of  the  Uospel ;  and  know- 


H: 


;'•■; 


I  ,  i 


128 


EXETER    HALL. 


)! 


!•*•* 


V; 


1  '    (  *''i 


r-    ■ 


'-IT" 

ltd-' 


-i''^ 

^'•^r 


Jnp  ones  were  of  opinion  that  ho  was  prepnr- 
inp:  to  follow  other  lii^li-niinded  prcncliorH, 
and  denert  tho  "  old  WcHk-.van  ship,"  to  ob- 
tain a  curacy  in  the  state  church,  and  kw«-11 
out  as  a  Church  of  Enjrland  minister.  There 
were  a  lew,  however,  who  had  niihjjivings  as 
to  the  true  cause  of  his  ajjathy  ;  and  confi- 
dential whispers  to  this  etlect  wen;  ])0'ired 
Into  the  ear  of  the  Kev.  James  Baker,  super- 
intendent of  the  circuit. 

So  far,  indee<l,  from  beinjf  vainjfh)rious,  Mr. 
Cajiel  had  nuido  many  friends  on  the  circuit 
by  his  unassuming  disposition,  and  several 
liero  and  there  stood  up  in  his  defense.  The 
younjT  lady  members  in  particular  were 
(jenerally  of  opinion  that  no  such  servant  of 
God  had  ever  belore  a])peared  amonjj  them  ; 
Rndoue  sanctified  spintster,  of  over  thirty-live 
summers,  said  she  would  be  willint;  to  fight 
lier  way  in  his  belialf  through  a  whole  con- 
ference of  ju'cachers,  even  were  they  as  stony- 
liearted  as  the  sterii  senior  i)reacher  of  llamp- 
Btead.  The  ladies  generally  Hocked  in  large 
numbers^o  hear  the  calm  gospel  exi'ositions 
of  Mr.  t'ai)el,  and  the  lemalo  membi-rship  of 
the  church  greatly  incn-asod  under  his 
"  word."  Although  he  avoided  every  exciting 
theme,  there  were  as  many  female  "  conver- 
sions "  as  if  he  had  been  one  of  the  Boanerges 
class  ;  and  he  had  constMpiently  "  seals  to  his 
ministry "  which  might  not  have  followed 
from  the  preaching  even  of  a  much  older 
man— one  who  was  more  matured  in  "divine 
things" — such  as  the  superintendent  himself. 

Whether  the  liev.  Mr.  Baker  grew  a  little 
jealous  of  his  younger  brother  on  this  parti- 
cular account  can  not  be  fairly  asserted.  He 
might  have  had  good  methodistic  reasons  lor 
the  course  he  was  about  to  pursue.  Mr. 
Capel  kept  aloof,  and  had  not  called  at  the 
parsonage  for  nearly  a  month  ;  and  when  he 
did  call,  Imrried  away,  giving  no  satisfactory 
statement  of  the  afliiirs  on  the  circuit.  It 
was  well  known  among  the  brethren  that  he 
never  encouraged  revival  meetings ;  and  when 
those  anxious  for  a  "si)ecial  outpouring" 
made  efforts  to  awaken  slumbering  sinners, 
he  always  managed  to  be  absent,  and  often 
hinted  that  he  would  prefer  to  have  every 
thing  done  "  decently  and  in  order."  But  it 
was  not  until  after  the  sad  derangement  of 
Mrs.  Mannors  that  he  sjjoke  out  jjlainly. 
Sympathizing  with  her  family,  he  felt  indig- 
nant that  such  a  sad  result — one  of  many — 
should  follow  from  the  persistency  of  Method- 
ism in  religious  excitements,  and  he  had  the 
temerity  to  state  that  revivals  were  but  nur- 
series lor  lunacy.  Besides  this,  it  was  well 
known  that  he  spoke  of  Mr.  Mannors  as  a  i)er- 
son  whose  example,  in  several  respects,  might 
be  followed  advantageously  by  numy  gospel 
ministers,  and  he  was  ever  ready  to  defend 
his  character  from  the  unscrupulous  attacks 
so  commonly  made  by  the  pious  or  orthodox 
against  imbelievers ;  and  certain  expressions 
made  from  time  to  time  conveying  his  doubt 
of  eternal  punishment  alarmed  not  a  lew  of 
the  more  zealous,  whose  Methodistic  instincts 
h;d  th(>m  to  reverence  the  Bible,  as  much  for 
its  consignment  of  the  wicked  to  eternal  tor- 
ments as  for  its  ))erp(.'tuity  of  glorious  re- 
wards to  the  faithful. 


Mr.  Capol  had  made  preparations  to  leave 
Ilampstead  Cottage  after  the  d»'ath  of  Wil- 
liam ;  he  had  several  reasons  for  so  doing. 
He  had  been  solicited  by  Mrs.  Manners  to 
reside  in  her  family,  in  order  to  acc()i;i|,lish  a 
purpos  which  now  could  never  \n'  reached  ; 
his  own  religi(ms  views  liad  underg(-neacom- 
l)lete  change  ;  his  mission  was  therefore  us^ 
h'ss ;  and  lie  felt  that  if  it  was  projjcr  to 
change  his  i)lace  of  residence,  it  was  much 
more  so  his  duty  to  break  off  all  C(,nnecti()ns 
with  a  society  whose  teachings  he  had  ceased 
to  believe.  Yet,  dreading  the  obbxpiy  which 
was  almost  certain  to  follow  a  formal  recanta- 
tum,  he  was  desirous  of  withdrawing  gradual- 
ly from  Methodist  membership,  aiul  ho  trust- 
ed that  some  ojijjortunity  would  be  iifforded  to 
make  his  exit  unnoticed.  He  couUl  not  con- 
sistently teach  a  doctrine  which  he  did  not 
believe  ;  for  over  a  month  he  had  neither  been 
seen  nor  lieard  at  any  religious  service — it 
was  public  talk— and  the  anomalous  position 
he  occui)ied  made  him  very  tinhapi)y,  ^^^ 
rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  do  sonu'thing 
to  release  himself  from  a  bondage  which  was 
so  irkscmie. 

He  often  met  liis  friend,  Father  Tom  Mc- 
(ilinn,  often  traveled  with  him  whole  days, 
had  had  long  and  interesting  conversations 
<m  the  subject  of  religi<m  ;  and  hv  found  that 
his  friend  in  Bomish  orders — a  veritalde  priest 
of  the  "  Alother  Church  " — was  just  "  as  much 
in  the  mud  as  he  was  in  the  mire  ;"  that  both 
were  sliding — or  rather  had  slidden — from 
doubt  to  unbelief;  both  reputed  ministers  of 
the  (Jospel,  though  of  widely  different  and 
hostile  sects,  were  each  anxious  to  be  free 
from  the  fetters  of  a  religion  which  investiga- 
tion had  shown  to  be  the  more  modern  fonu 
of  an  ancient  superstition;  and  both  alike 
dreading  the  outcry  whicli  would  be  nuide 
upon  their  open  defection,  were  consequently 
more  and  more  in  sympatliy. 

Father  McGlinn,  after  all,  thought  it  best 
that  his  friend  should  answer  the  summons, 
and  ajjpear  in  person  at  the  quarterly  meet- 
ing ;  and  Mr.  Mannors,  who  would  not  hear 
of  Mr.  Capel's  change  of  residence',  also  advised 
him  to  go  boldly  and  hear  every  accusation. 
There  might  be  invidious  charges,  which 
it  would  be  necessary  to  dis])rove.  'JMie  ortho- 
dox seldom  belif^vc  that  religious  doubts  or 
openly  avowed  skepticism  can  arise  from  any 
l)ure  motive — any  abstract  love  of  truth;  or 
that  any  man  can  desire  to  be  raised  above  e. 
class  of  servile  worshipers  of  any  myth  or 
creed  but  from  a  desire  for  sensual  indul- 
gence, an  eagerness  to  he  rid  of  the  whole- 
some restraints  of  religion.  Mr.  Mannors 
therefore  strongly  urged  that  Mr.  Baker 
should  be  met  on  his  own  ground  ;  and  that 
while  Mr.  Capel  made  such  acknowledgments 
respecting  religion  as  he  thought  proper,  ho 
should  (kimand  proof,  or  rebut  charges  against 
his  character,  upon  which  solely  they  might, 
and  no  doubt  Avould  try,  to  base  a  motion  for 
his  expulsion. 

The  Rev.  James  Baker,  in  the  m«;an  fime, 
was  very  industriously  circulating  his  ojiinion 
of  Mr.  Capel  throughout  vari<jus  parts  of  the 
circuit.  He  well  knew  where  he  could  dis- 
cover pliant  aids  for  his  purpose,  and  hu 


EXETER    IIALL. 


129 


to  leave 
I  of  Wil- 
«)  (loinjj. 
iiinorH  to 
iniilish  a 
rcuclicd  ; 
\\v  a  com- 
•i'oro  UB(!- 
|iro)M;r  to 
■ftH  muoli 
niH'cfions 
ftd  c(ni8otl 
iiy  which 
I  rcranta- 
<:  {xradual- 

lio  trust- 
ft'orded  to 

not  coii- 
!■  did  not 
tlit'rheen 
LTV  ice — it 
B  position 
ilH)y,  and 
onu'thing 
liich  was 

Tern  Mc- 
olo  days, 
vi'i'f^ations 
oiind  that 
ible  priest 
"  aenmch 
that  hoth 
len — from 
nisters  of 
LTcnt  and 

0  bo  free 
investiga- 
li'rn  forai 
)oth  alike 

he  made 
sequently 

ht  it  best 
BnmmonB, 
•rly  mt't't- 
not  hoar 
so  advised 
ccusntion. 
•s,  which 
lie  ortho- 
hnibts  or 
from  any 
truth;  or 

1  above  e. 
myth  ()•• 

lal  indul- 
10  whoU'- 
Mannors 
r.  Baker 
and  that 
■djrmentH 
iioper,  ho 
s  a}iavii»*t 
cy  mifJtlit, 
notion  for 

lean  tiiiit'. 
is  opinion 
,rtB  of  the 
L-.ould  dis- 
I.   and  he 


found  them.  ITe  was  exceedinpfly  l)itter  in 
liiH  denunciation  of  ministerial  unfaitlifuhiesH, 
and  he  succeeded  in  depictini;  tlie  conduct  of 
the  junior  preacher  as  deservinjf  the  impeacli- 
ment  of  tlie  "  diurcli  of  (Jod."  lie  insisted 
tliat  the  "  servants  of  tiie  Lord  "  were  bound 
to  make  the  ])unisliment  of  such  jrross  perfidy 
a  terror  to  evil  dot ts  ;  and  for  days,  wiiile 
some  of  the  younij;  ladies  dared  to  sympathize, 
the  select  "  peoi)ieof  the  Lonl "  were  prei)arin^ 
to  jjive  an  (^xiiiliition  «)f  Christian  forbearance 
and  magnanimity. 

The  dreaded  Saturday  came.  The  churcli 
was  filled  ;  and  altiioujjli  nuiny  of  the  brethren 
had  to  leave  their  daily  toil,  tliey  did  leave  it, 
to  bo  present  on  8U(;li  an  occasion  of  impi>i'- 
tance.  The  ladies  ass(!tnbled  in  as  {jreat 
numbers  as  if  there  were  to  be  a  special  revi- 
val, or  a  missionary  meetin<r,  or  a  j)ul)lic  rais- 
injj  of  some  dead  Lazarus.  Local  preachers, 
church  stewards,  and  other  otHcial  members 
were  well  represented  ;  and  besides  Mr.  Baker, 
there  were  three  other  jireacliers,  among 
whom  was  the  old  superannuated  itinerant, 
who  had  held  forth  in  such  a  lively  discourse 
at  the  late  protracted  meetinjj. 

Mr.  Baker,  as  superintendent  of  the  circuit, 
preached  a  doleful,  prosy  sermon,  in  which 
ministerial  backslidin<;  was  represented  as  one 
of  the  basest  crimes  ajfainst  the  church  ;  and 
he  simulated  jrrcat  rejrret  at  beiii}?  compelled, 
much  ajrainst  his  will,  but  as  a  matter  of 
duty,  to  brin<r  serious  charj^es  a<jjainst  a  bro- 
ther— an  errinj;  brother — for  whom  he  once 
had  such  a  stronji;  and  deep  affection.  He 
assured  his  brethren  that  this  duty  was  most 
painful  ;  but  the  cause  of  the  Lord  should  not 
be  influenced  by  our  hunuin  feelings^the 
rifjht  eye  should  be  plucked  out  or  the  rifj^ht 
hand  cut  off,  should  dire  necessity  require 
the  sacrifice. 

Mr.  Capel  did  not  make  his  a])i)oaranco  until 
after  these  jireliminary  services  were  over. 
The  eyes  of  many  had  wandered  over  the 
church,  and  mucli  surprise  was  manifested 
when  he  could  not  be  seen.  Mr.  Baker  him- 
self felt  then  like  an  Abraham  without  an 
Isaac ;  the  altar  was  raised,  he  held  out  the 
sliining  blade  ready  for  the  sacrifice ;  he 
wanted  to  make  an  atonement,  but  no  victim 
appeared.  IFe  be^an  to  feil  as  unc(mifortable 
as  a  ti.sjftr  robbed  of  his  jirey,  when  Mr.  Capel 
was  seen  walkinjr  slowly  up  the  aisle,  the 
object  of  jiromiuent  interest  to  all ;  and  it  was 
evident  that  he  was  somewhat  nervous  under 
the  concentrated  gaze  of  so  many  firm  be- 
lievers. 

He  took  his  place  quietly,  however,  and 
scanned  tluiCDUiplacent  faces  of  the  sanctified 
rmv  of  church  olficials  ;  not  one  of  whom,  in 
this  try.ng  hour,  ventured  to  give  him  even  a 
nod  of  friendly  recognition.  There  was  a 
flutter  among  the  ladies,  and  one  f:articular 
sjjinster  ajiplied  her  handkerchief  very  fre- 
quently, and  looked  (juite  woebegone. 

After  some  formalities,  there  was  a  great 
luish,  when  Mr.  Baker  stood  before  the  breth- 
ren as  an  accuser.  Ho  niiterattnl  that  it 
was  painful  to  him  as  a  minister  of  the  (los- 
pcl,  and  it  was  with  much  reluctance  that  he 
was  obliged  to  call  their  atti'ntion  to  certain 
charges  which  he  felt  it  his  Vioundeu  duty  to 


prefer  against  brother  Henry  Capel — ho  would 
still  call  him  brother— the  junior  preacher  un- 
der his  superintendency.  Indeed,  one  might  im- 
agine that  at  this  particular  time  the  worthy 
nnin  had  found  diHiculty  in  giving  utterance 
to  liis  words  ;  he  was  very  much  affected, 
very,  and  the  faces  of  the  official  bnjthren 
around  were  lengthened  into  the  gloomiest 
solemnity. 

Having  adjusted  his  spectacles,  he  opened  a 
|)aper,  and  read  out  the  chargtss. 

"  Ist.  That  he,  Henry  Capel,  as  junior  prea- 
cher, has  b(HMi  negligent  in  his  duties  and 
irn^gular  in  his  api)ointnients. 

"  3d.  That  he  has  sneered  at  and  reviled  the 
practice,  discii)line,  and  tc-aching  of  our  church 
and  found(!r,  and  has  sjjoken  contemptuously 
of  our  holy  religifm. 

"  t)d.  That  his  private  acts  and  hia  general 
conduct  and  morality  have  been  discreditable 
to  himself,  and  a  reproach  to  the  people  of 
Uod." 

With  respect  to  the  first  charge,  Mr.  Baker 
said,  it  was  well  known  that  for  a  long  time 
Mr.  Capel  had  not  kept  his  appointmcmts. 
People  attended  at  the  r(!gular  time  men- 
tioned on  the  "  i)lan,"  but  no  preacher  came  ; 
some  IVivolous  excuse  having  been  given  for 
non-attendance.  Even  when  he  did  preach,  it 
was  but  a  mere  lecture  in  favor  of  a  cold,  for- 
mal morality  ;  not  a  stirring  appeal  to  induce 
sinners  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come. 

He  was  then  about  to  furnish  evidence  in 
jiroof,  when  Mr.  Capel  said  that,  for  several 
reasons  which  he  need  not.  mention,  his  ai> 
pointments  were  not  regularly  kei)t ;  he  ad- 
mitted the  correctness  of  the  charge,  and 
regretted  that  he  had  caused  the  members  any 
inconvenience.  Any  address  or  "lecture" 
which  he  had  given  was  an  effort  to  improve 
his  hearers  morally  and  intellectually  ;  he  had 
thought  it  best  to  appeal  to  the  reason  instead 
of  to  the  feelings. 

Mr.  Bak(;r  said  that  tjie  next  charge  was 
far  more  serious.  He,  Mr.  Capel,  on  several 
occasi(ms — privately,  he  admitted,  but  yet  not 
less  invidiously — had  stated  that  God's  Holy 
Bible  was  false  and  contradictory  in  several 
jdaces.  False  in  its  history  and  science  ;  false 
and  oven  barbarous  in  its  general  teachings 
and  tendency  ;  false  in  its  idea  of  a  Supreme 
Being.  Its  prophecies  were  false,  its  mira- 
cles untrue,  and  that  many  parts  of  that 
blessed  book  \n!re  unfit  to  be  read.  "  1  can 
not,  I  dare  not,  my  friends,"  said  the  speaker, 
much  excited,  "  repeat  the  horrid  blasphtmiies 
to  which  be  has  given  utterance.  Tlu!  ofteuse 
is  of  such  a  nature  as  not  only  suificient  to 
exclude  any  man  from  our  confidence — to  place 
him  beyond  the  pale  of  moral  society — but 
also  to  subject  him  to  the  pains  and  penalties 
wisely  and  proj)erly  provided  against  blas- 
phemy by  the  laws  of  this  realm.  0  my 
friends !  I  feel  a  dreadful  responsibility  for  hav- 
ing permitted  that  man — that  guilty,  deceitful 
num — to  go  about  among  our  people  and  be- 
tray us,  while  holding  such  sentiments." 

The  reverend  gentleman  grew  very  indig- 
nant ;  his  assumed  regret  and  forbearance  dis- 
appeared,  and  he  scowled  upon  the  accused 
with  a  ferocity  of  expression  which  might  have 
made  even  his  pioijs  brother  in  the  ministry, 


i.  •'*■? 
I.  -1(1)' 


i 


Hi 


»  I 


?tv. 


180 


EXETER  HALL. 


I'' 


111 

■I  i 


Doctor  BuBter,  feel  a  little  norvoun.  Yot  Mr. 
Capel  sat  then!  unintiniidated  ;  \ni  novor  tlincli- 
ed  beneath  tlie.dnrk  fiery  eye  tliat  was  now 
turni-d  uiH)n  him ;  but  it  whh  particilarly  for- 
tunate for  liini,  at  the  time,  that "  brother  "  Ua- 
ker  had  not  full  j)ower  to  iniiM)8e  the  aforesaid 
"  pains  and  penalties  so  wisely  provided  by 
law."  The  rack  or  the  thunib-ticniw,  so  neces- 
sary in  other  days  for  the  i)ropajjation  of  one 
form  of  Christianity,  might  not  then  have  been 
looked  ujMm  with  such  holy  horror  were  this 
servant  of  Ood  only  permitted  tn  apply  them  in 
defense  of  the  "  book  of  books." 

Brother  Wesley  Jacobs  and  others  of  the 
elect  were  prieved  in  spirit,  groaned  audibly, 
and  shuddered  to  find  themselves  in  such 
proximity  to  an  actual  rcviler  of  the  Gospel  ; 
It  was  dreadful ;  and  many  of  the  faithful 
around  raised  their  pious  eyes  toward  tlie 
<ieilinpr,  and  thanked  God  that  they  had  not 
hearts  of  unbelief.  Nearly  all  looked  upon 
the  junior  preacher  as  one  who  had  fallen — 
miserably  fallen — from  a  high  estate  ;  ye^,  on«! 
whose  condemnation  was  alrt;ady  seahnl. 
Were  he  a  criminal— a  felon  before  a  judicial 
bar — there  would  lu|ive. -b'Tn  hope,  pity,  ond 
sympathy,  extended.lMilvard  him  ;  but  for  an 
awful  unbeliever  diU'Lot  the  word  say,  "  Let 
Lim  be  accursed  "  ?  ,# 

Besides  some  of  the  ladies  whose  tender  feel- 
ings were  yet  with  the  accused,  "  old  Father 
White  " — as  the  superannuated  preacher  was 
familiarly  called  —  looked  with  compassion 
upon  the  young  man,  and  yearned  for  his 
soul  as  well  a.s  for  his  restoration.  Father 
White  was  loved  for  his  kind,  human  impul- 
ses ;  the  natural  man  was  not  yet  entirely 
absorbed  in  the  spiritual.  He  knc  w  there 
was  one  text  which  said,  "  But  though  we, 
or  an  angel  from  heaven,  preach  any  other 
gospel  unto  you  than  that  whicli  we  have 
preached  unto  you,  let  him  be  accursed  ;"  and 
another,  "If  there  come  any  unto  you  and 
bring  not  this  doctrine,  receive  him  not 
into  your  house,  neither  bid  him  Godspeed  ;" 
still,  under  the  influence  of  human  frailty,  he 
preferred  the  text  which  said,  "  Judge  not, 
and  ye  shall  not  Vi  judged  ;  condemn  not, 
and  ye  shall  not  be  condenmed  ;  forgive,  and 
ye  shall  be  forgiven.''  And  now,  could  he  get 
his  erring  brother — or  rather  his  erring  son — 
then  and  there  to  make  an  open  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  sin — to  accept  the  divine  word 
before  all,  it  would  bring  confusion  upon  skep- 
tics, and  redound  to  the  glory  of  the  Gospel. 

In  natural  dispositions,  there  was  a  great 
difference  between  the  old  superannuated 
preacher,  Father  White,  and  the  liev.  James 
Baker,  the  superintendent.  The  influence  of 
the  spirit  which  would  induce  one  to  restore  a 
doubting  Thomas  would  actuate  the  other  to 
cut  him  off  nxjt  and  branch.  There  was  the 
mild  imi)ul8e  of  humanity  on  the  one  side 
and  the  stern,  unrelenting  spirit  of  orthodoxy 
on  the  other. 

"  My  son — my  brother,"  said  the  old 
preacher,  "  do  you  not  see  how  greatly  you 
nave  sinned  in  bringing  discredit  upiHi  the 
Gosptel  of  our  Lord?  The  guilt  is  greater  on 
your  part,  having  been  a  laborer  in  the  vine- 
yard. God  looks  upon  unbelief,  that  hideous 
monster  of  the  human  heart,  as  involving 


the  rejection  «»f  the  Holy  Spirit— a  sin  of  such 
magnitude  as  to  close  the  ear  of  heavenly 
ineicy  to  all  future  a])])eals,  and  seal  the  of- 
fender to  the  doom  of  eternal  jjerdition. 

"  Th(^  tru<'  Christian  can  not— (hvre  not — look 
upon  the  rejection  of  the  (Josp«'l  in  any  more 
favorable  light.  My  brother,  what  saith  the 
Scriptun-— Matt.  1;}:  IM,  '.>2,  '  /  say  unto  you, 
all  manner  of  sin  and  blasjihemy "shall  be  for- 
given unto  men  ;  but  the  blasphemy  against 
the  Holy  Ghost  nhull  nothc  foryinn  unto  men. 
And  whosoever  siM'aketh  a  word  against  the 
Son  of  Man,  it  sliall  be  forgiven  him;  but 
whosoever  speaketh  against  the  Holy  Ghost, 
it  shall  not  be  forf/mn  him — neither  in  this 
world,  neither  in  the  world  to  come.' 

"  That  is,  '  all  manner  of  sin  ' — crimes  of  the 
deepest  dii; — ingratitude,  murder,  any  thing 
may  be  forgiven  but  that  woeful  offense 
against  the  Holy  Spirit— against  high  hea- 
ven— shall  not,  can  not  be  forgivi-n,  dreadful 
to  contemplate  I  O  my  brother  !  I  fee-l  tliat 
the  Sj)irit  of  God  still  strives  with  you,  and 
that  you  are  not  as  yet  left  to  a  rejirobate 
heart,  and  cut  off  forever.  Hasten !  hesitate  no 
longer  !  He  who  willfully  rejects  the  divine 
word  rejects  the  spirit  of  grace,  and  insiires 
his  own  condemnation.  Mark  your  danger ! 
you  once  njceived  the  Gospel,  dare  you  now 
refuse  it  1  Has  not  our  Master  said,  '  No 
man  having  put  his  hand  to  the  plow,  and 
looking  buck,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God.' 
And  Paul  says,  in  Heb.  5,  '  It  is  imiwssible  for 
those  who  were  once  enlightened,  and  have 
tasted  of  the  heavenly  gift,  if  they  shall  fall 
away,  to  renew  them  again  unto  repentance  ; 
seeing  they  crucify  to  themselves  the  Sou  of 
God  afresh,  and  put  him  to  an  open  shame.' 
'  If  we  sin  willfully  after  that  we  have  received 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  there  remaineth 
no  more  sacrifice  for  sins  ;  but  a  certain  fear- 
ful looking  for  of  judgment  and  fiery  indigna- 
tion, which  shall  devour  the  adversaries.' 

"  These  extracts  fnmi  the  word  of  God,  my 
brother,  ought  to  make  you  start  in  your 
sleep  !  Be  not  attracted  and  deceived  by  the 
world ;  the  transitory  things  of  time  and 
sense  are  comparatively  unworthy  of  our 
notice.  Cling  to  divine  revelation — it  gives 
you  an  assurance  of  a  glorious  hereafter ! 
How  insignificant  are  the  rulers  or  gi-eat  men 
of  the  earth,  when  com])ared  with  the  illus- 
trious characters  portrayed  in  the  Holy  Bible  I 
Who  can  compare  with  David  the  sweet 
Psalmist  of  the  Old  Testament ;  or  with  Paul, 
the  great  apostle,  of  the  New  ?  Alas  !  what 
would  the  world  be  without  the  Bible? 
Where  should  we  find  our  morality — where 
our  civilisation  V  Take  away  the  Bible,  and 
the  world  would  be  a  chaos !  Uproot  our 
divine  religion,  and  what  can  you  give  in  its 
place  r 

The  old  preacher  again  tenderly  pleaded, 
and  again  repeated  his  admonitions.  He 
would  have  cheerfully  given  up  his  few  re- 
maining years,  and  have  died  to  save  his 
erring  brother ;  and  when  ho  sat  down, 
though  Mr.  Baker  and  others,  "  steadfast  in 
the  Ijord,"  remained  stern  and  immovable 
yet  the  greater  number  under  his  voice  and 
exhortation  were  softened  even  to  tears. 


a: 


EXETER    HALL. 


131 


I  of  Buch 
heavenly 
I  the  of. 
m. 

Kit — lodk 
iny  more 
xaitli  the 
into  you, 
ill  be  for- 
y  aguinHt 
into  men. 
tviiiBt  the 
lini ;  but 
ly  Uhdst, 
r  in  thia 

lies  of  the 
my  thing 
1    oflense 
lijjh    hea- 
,  dreadful 
fe(!l  that 
you,  and 
re])r()bate 
icsitate  no 
the  divine 
id  insures 
r  danger! 
you  now 
said,    '  No 
i)lo\v,  and 
u  of  God.: 
lossible  for 
and  have 
shall  fall 
>l)entance ; 
:he  Son  of 
>n  shame.' 
e  received 
reniaineth 
rtain  fear- 
y  indigna- 
iiries.' 
Uod,  my 
in  your 
^■ed  by  the 
time    and 
of   our 
■it  gives 
lereafter ! 
great  men 
the  illus- 
)ly  Bible! 
10    SAveet 
ivith  Paid, 
as !  what 
10  Bible? 
y — whi^re 
Bible,  and 
fproot  our 
give  in  its 

y  pleaded, 
tions.  He 
lis  few  re- 

savo  his 
jat  down, 
teadi'ast  in 
nmovable 

voice  and 
ears. 


CHAPTER    XXVL 


WiTKX  Mr.  ('ai»el  got  up  to  speak,  there 
was  almost  perfect  silence  ;  all  were  anxious 
to  lu  ar  what  he  had  to  say  in  reply  to  tlu! 
serious  charges  of  the  suix-rinteiulent,  and 
many  wcrc!  of  opinion  that  the  plea  so  feel- 
ingly ma<h!  by  Father  White  had  turned  tlm 
scale  in  favor  of  the  accused;  that  he  would 
most  probably  acknowledge  his  error,  and  sub- 
mit  to  a  reproof.  Mr.  Baker  liimself  seemed 
rather  disconcerted  ;  he  di<l  not  ajjprove  of 
tampering  with  an  enemy  ;  he  would  not  havi; 
taken  a  single  st(^p  toward  th(>  reclamation  of 
a  sk»'ptlc  by  argument.  Unbelief  to  him  was 
a  crime  that  should  lu!  punished.  Ho  would 
rath(!r  follow  the  example  of  a  class  of  in- 
<|uisitors,  who,  in  dealing  with  certain  peni- 
tents, first  granted  al)solution,  but  gave  the 
body  to  the  flames,  lest  the  srml  should  b«'  en- 
dangered by  a  relapse  into  heresy.*  As  it  was, 
he  n<uther  wanted  penitence  nor  pardon  ;  he 
had  the  offender  in  his  clutches — let  the  law 
take  its  course. 

"  I  can  not  but  i, ■<''.,"  said  Mr.  Capel,  "that 
the  consideration  (extended  toward  me  by  the 
liev.  Mr.  White  demands  my  most  heartfelt 
thanks.  Viewing  the  matter  from  liis  stand- 
point, I  have  committ«Ml  a  most  grievous  of- 
fense against  religion — against  the  church  of 
which  1  was  once  a  member,  but  to  which  I 
can  never  more  claim  to  tielong.  I  would 
fain  have  his  good  opinion  ;  and,  for  his  sake, 
and  the  sake  of  many  othei-s,  I  wish  we  couhl 
believe  alike — I  fear  it  is  now  impossible  ;  but 
we  all  know  by  experience  that  that  which 
at  one  period  of  our  lives  might  hnvc  been 
estimated  as  true  and  beautiful,  at  a  subse- 
(juent  period  may  cease  to  possess  that  virtue 
and  quality.  What  appears  to  be  truth  to 
one  may  be  error  to  another  ;  and,  as  our  con- 
victions in  this  respect  are  not  voluntary,  but 
are,  or  rather  ought  to  be,  the  result  of  a  men- 
tal process,  this  result  should  be  accepted,  no 
matter  how  painful  to  our  own  feelings  or  to 
the  feelings  of  another. 

"The  second  charge  brought  against  me  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Baker  is,  in  the  main,  correct ; 
but  I  object  to  the  terms  which  he  lias  used. 
I  have  never  '  sneered  at '  or  '  reviled  '  any 
thing  religious,  nor  have  I  spoken  '  contempt- 
uously '  of  the  founder  of  Methodism,  or  of 
any  Christian  doctrine.  I  admit  that,  for  a 
long  jieriod,  I  had  serious  doubts — long  rank- 
ling privately  in  my  own  bosom  ;  these  I  tried, 
with  all  my  power,  to  supjiress  ;  and  if  pray- 
ers or  tears  could  have  removed  thoni,  they 
would  not  have  remained.  If  I  ever  ventured 
to  mention  tluun  to  any  jierson,  it  was  to  sonu; 
one  whom  I  considered  more  experienced  than 
I  was  myself.  Upon  my  appointment  to  this 
circuit,  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  many 
members  of  the  church — geniTally  the  more 
studious  and  thoughtful — were  troubled  with 
n(^arly  the  same  doubts  which  agitated  my 
own  mind,  and  sought  occasionally  to  confer 
with  me  for  an  explanation." 


•The  inquisitors  probably  took  their  cue  from  St. 
Paul — 1  C()r.  .5  :  .5,  "  To  delivor  such  a  one  unto  Satan 
for  the  destruction  of  the  lle>>li,  that  the  spirit  may  be 
Baved  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 


"  'Tis  false  !  'tis  false  !  Kamo  thorn — let  UB 
know  them!"  cried  Mr.  Baker,  jumping  up, 
dark  and  angry  ;  "  let  us  have  their  namcH, 
and  let  fheni  answer  for  themselves  if  thev 
are  present.  Tis  false  !"  he  wildly  reiterated, 
striking  tiie  palm  of  his  hand  fiercely.  "  No 
man,  woman,  or  child  ou  the  circuit  (iver  had 
doubts  until  you  bniught  them.  1  say  again, 
'tis  liilse  !" 

Some  of  X\w  ofllcial  members  were  becom- 
ing agitattid,  and  others  rocked  impatiently  in 
tlieir  seats,  as  if  anxious  for  the  word  of  com- 
mand to  '•  (fo  in  "  and  defend  the  faith  ;  and 
were  it  not  f  )r  tht»  calm,  tolerant  bearing  of 
good  Father  White,  there  might  hav(!  l>een  a 
scene  wonliy  of  a  notice  in  the  next  morning 
paper. 

"  Friends,"  said  he  mildly,  "  I  pray  let 
there  b(»  no  interrupti<m.  Let  us  h'^--  Mr. 
('ajiel's  reply  to  the  charges;  let  hi.'  -=1  ••  ik 
freely,  and  if  what  he  says  is  not  sutticiei.t  to 
exculpate  him,  the  church  can  so  exjiress  it," 

Mr.  ('a[)el  took  no  notice,  however,  of  the 
interruption.  He  said,  if  permitted,  he  would 
give  a  simi>le  statement  of  his  views,  and  if 
lie  coidd  be  proved  to  be  in  error,  he  would 
cheerfully  submit  to  their  decision.  Having, 
as  he  said,  entertained  serious  doubts,  he 
thought  it  his  duty,  as  one  on  probation  for 
the  ministry,  to  inquire  into  the  alleged  er- 
rors, discrepancies,  and  contradictions  said  to 
have  been  discovered  throughout  the  Bilde, 
with  a  view  of  being  better  able  to  speak  in 
its  defense  and  refute  the  arguments  of 
skeptics.  In  so  doing,  he  had  read  the  most 
distinguished  authors  for  and  against  the 
Bible  ;  he  conceived  that  he  could  form  no 
just  conclusions  by  merely  reading  one  side  ; 
that  if  the  Bible  were  perfect  truth,  as  its  iip- 
holders  asserted,  no  strictness  of  investigation 
could  possibly  affect  its  paramount  claim. 
Contrary  to  his  expectations,  however,  that 
investigation  had  but  still  further  shaken  his 
faith,  and  satisfied  him  that  his  previous 
doubts  were  but  too  well  founded.  Ho  felt 
that  this  was  a  delicate  subject  to  mention  in 
a  Methodist  church  ;  but,  as  his  motives  had 
been  impugned,  .  e  thought  it  but  proper  to 
give  tlu*  reasons  for  his  unbelief. 

"We  want  to  hear  none  of  i/oiir  reasons.  1 
dare  say  your  so-called  investigation  was 
more  confined  to  T(mi  Paine  than  it  was  to 
Paley  ;  no  doubt  your  distinguished  friend, 
Manuoi's,  gave  you  important  assistance  in 
the  research." 

"  Patience,  brother  Baker,"  said  Mr.  White. 
"  We  should  hear  him  out  like  Christian  men — 
like  nu'n  who  are  not  afraid  of  the  rock  on 
which  they  stand." 

"  I  know,"  continued  Mr.  Capel,  "  how 
deeply  ministers  and  members  of  the  church 
must  feel  when  defects  and  inconsistencies  are 
said  to  have  been  discovered  in  a  book  which 
they  have  been  taught  to  believe  '  inspired  ;' 
1  kiiow  personally  the  strength  of  such  preju- 
dice's, and  I  know  how  positive  the  precepts 
of  that  book  are  against  unbelief.  But  when 
a  claim  is  made  to  infallibility,  such  precepts 
should  not  prevent  investigation. 

"  If  you  shut  out  inquiry,  distrust  is  sure  to 
enter.  I  do  not  wish  to  particularize  in  this 
place,  or  to  go  into  details  as  to  what  parts  in 


^ 


!   -i 


i 


1 ' 


103 


/ 


EXETER    HALL. 


itS- 


■* 


the  Bible  I  hare  fonnd  objectionable.  I  do  not 
wish  to  utter  any  thing  which  might  cause  a 
moment's  pain  to  any  on:  present,  but  1 
wish  to  be  pennitted  to  give  the  reasons  why 
I  dissent  from  what  has  just  been  so  kindly 
expressed  by  one  for  whom  I  shall  ever  enter- 
tain a  high  regard. 

"  Our  reverend  father  has  drawn  a  comparison 
between  the  great  men  and  rulers  of  the  earth, 
and  two  of  the  principal  characters  of  Scrip- 
ture, David  and  Paul- -the  psalmist  and  the 
great  apostle.  For  ceiituries  the  pious  have 
given  these  personages  a  prominent  place  in 
the  histor}'  of  the  Bible — have  lauded  their 
many  and  noble  virtues,  and  recommended 
them  as  distinguished  patterns  to  all  mankind. 
DaN-id,  in  particular,  lias  been  called  '  a  man 
after  God's  own  heart '  for  his  reputed  excel- 
lencies and  obedience  to  the  divine  will.  The 
Bible  itself  goes  far  to  establish  this  reputa- 
tion ;  for  it  says  that,  '  David  did  that  which 
was  right  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord,  and  turned 
not  aside  from  any  thing  that  was  command- 
ed him  all  the  days  of  his  life,  save  only  in 
the  matter  of  Uriah  the  Hittite.'  It  would  be 
difficult  to  find  a  greater  eulogy  within  the 
limits  of  that  book.  In  reading  this  commend- 
ation, a  person  Avould  think  that  David  was 
one  of  the  most  estimable  that  ever  lived.  I 
can  not  believe  so.  I  judge  him  by  the  records 
of  tlie  same  Bible  ;  i.nd  I  have  often  thought 
that  there  must  have  been  one  of  the  many 
Bible  inter])olation8,  made  to  express  a  grave 
orro'r--a  blas])hemy — in  saying  that  David 
could  ever  be  '  a  man  after  God's  own  heart.' 
Who  would  choose  a  cruel,  blood-thirsty,  ra- 
pacious man — a  deliberate  murderer — to  be  his 
bosom  friend  ?  Let  us  glance  at  the  history  of 
David. 

"  His  firut  principal  act  was  the  slaying  of 
Goliath,  whose  head  ho  afterwanl  cut  oft". 
Anxious  to  obtain  Michal,  the  king's  daugh- 
ter, for  liis  wife,  Saul,  it  is  said,  told  David 
that  if  he  bvought  him  the  foreskins  of  one 
hundred  Philistines,  he  should  have  her. 
David,  who  had  been  made  a  '  captain  over  a 
thousand,'  thereupon  went  with  liis  men  and 
slaughtered  '  of  the  Philistines  Ufo  hundred 
men,'  one  hundred  more  than  was  required  ; 
and  ho  '  brought  their  foreskins  and  gave 
them  in  full  tale,  to  the  king,  that  lie  might 
be  the  king's  sop- in  law.'  David,  by  this 
means,  succeeded  in  getting  his  first  wife.  It 
strikes  me  that  it  was  a  most  baibarous  mode  ; 
no  way  inferior  to  the  way  in  which  brutal- 
ized savages  purchased  similar  favors  with 
the  scalps  of  their  enemies.  Again,  in  a  war, 
ho  '  went  out  and  fought  Avith  the  Philistines, 
and  slew  them  Avitli  great  sluuglitcr.'  To 
screen  himself  from  the  anger  of  Saul,  he 
prevailed  upon  Jonathan  to  tell  the  king  a 
talsehood.  After  he  had  fled  from  Saul,  he  tol<i 
a  li(!  to  Ahimelech,  the  priest,  as  to  the  rea- 
B<m  for  his  departure. 

"  When  he  wentto  Achish,  the  king  of  Oath, 
— being  '  sore  afraid  ' — '  he  changed  his  beha- 
vior before  them  and  feigned  himsc  If  mad,  and 
scrabbled  on  the  doors  of  the  gate,  and  let  liis 
spittle  full  down  ui)on  his  beard.'  Having  es- 
caped to  11  cav( ,  he  again  beca»»<»'  a  captain  over 
about  six  hundred  freebooters — men  who  were 
*  in  distress,' '  in  debt,'  and  'discontented ' — rea- 


dy for  any  enterprise  ;  and  the  Lord,  having 
delivered  the  Philistines  into  his  hand,  he 
brought  uway  their  cattle,  and  again  '  smote 
th(?ni  Avith  a  great  slaughter.'  Alter  various 
adventures,  David,  on  being  refused  a  faA'or 
by  Nubal,  a  herdsman,  '  girded  on  his  sAvord,' 
and  Avent  out  Avith  his  men  for  the  purpose  of 
destroying  him  and  his  helpers.  The  oath  he 
BAvore  to  this  effect  is  too  indelicate  to  men- 
tion. On  his  AA'ay,  he  Avas  met  by  Abigail, 
Nabal's  Avife — '  a  woman  of  a  beautiful  coun- 
tenance.' She  brought  presents  to  DaA'id,  and 
entreated  him  to  spare  her  husband,  anri  Jijg 
Avrath  Avas  appeased.  Ten  days  alter  her  re- 
turn, the  Lord,  it  is  said, '  smote  Nabal  that  he 
died  ; '  and  Avhen  David  heard  it,  he  sent  and 
took  Abigail  to  Avife — Michal,  his  first  Avife, 
having  been  taken  from  him  by  Saul — and  at 
the  same  time  he  took  another  woman  to  Avife, 
named  Ahinoam. 

"Were  it  not,  therefore,  for  the  intercession  of 
Nabal's  Avife,  David  Avould  have  committed  a 
cru  j1  outrage,  simply  because  he  Avas  chur- 
lishly refused  a  favor  by  Nabal. 

"  Dreading  the  enmity  of  Saul,  David,  Avith 
his  Avives  and  his  six  hundred  adventurers, 
fled  to  the  land  of  the  Philistines,  and  again 
sought  the  ]irotection  of  Achish,  king  of 
Gath.  Noi  desiring  to  dAvell  in  the  royal 
city,  he  prevailed  upon  the  king  to  give  him 
'  a  place  in  some  toAvn  in  the  country.'  Achish 
kindly  gaA'e  him  Ziglag  ;  and,  while  dwelling 
there  in  safety  from  Saul,  he  violated  the 
rights  of  hospitality  ;  and,  like  a  brigand, 
Avith  his  six  hundred  priA-ately  made  incur- 
sions into  certain  nations,  even  allies  of  his  pro- 
tector. '  Ho  smote  the  land,  and  left  neither 
man,  nor  woman  nlive  ;  and  took  aAvay  the 
sheep,  and  the  oxen,  and  the  asses,  and  the 
camels,  and  the  apparel.'  When  (juestioned 
by  Achish  as  to  his  inroads,  he  deceived  the 
king,  by  stating  that  he  had  been  against 
other  people  hostile  to  him  ;  and  to  svipjiort 
the  untruth,  he  cut  off  every  living  being 
Avhom  lie  had  taken.  The  text  says,  '  And 
David  saved  neither  man  nor  woman  (dive,  to 
bring  tidings  to  Gath,  saying,  lest  they  should 
tell  on  us.'  Such  wanton  and  un])roA'oked 
slaughter  to  hide  deception  was  the  extreme 
of  human  depravity. 

"  He  again  Avent  to  the  king  and  gave  evi- 
dence of  his  want  of  pi>irioti8m,  by  basely 
proposing  to  join  the  Philistines  Avith  his 
men  in  a  Avar  against  his  own  country  ;  but, 
being  mistrusted,  he  Avas  not  permitted  to  go, 
and  he  regretted  his  rejection. 

"  Upon  his  return  to  Ziglag,  he  found  that 
the  Amalikiti'S,  AA'hoir;  he  had  Avantonly  de- 
spoiled, had,  during  his  absence,  entered  anil 
bunit  his  city,  and  had  tak(!n  his  avIvcs  and 
all  that  Avere  therein  ca])tives  ;  but  they  ex- 
hibited a  greater  humanity  than  David,  for  it 
is  said  '  that  they  slew  not  any,  either  great  , 
or  small.'  After  beAvailing  his  loss,  he  AV(!nt 
and  consulted  (iod  through  the  medium  of  nil 
'  ephod,' — as  a  heathen  Avould  his  oracle,  and 
haA'ing  received  divine  enc  uragement,  he.Avith 
only  four  hundred  of  his  men — the  other  tAvo 
hundred  being '  faint ' — Avent  out  against  the 
Amalikites,  The  text  says, '  And  David  smoto 
them  from  tlu^  twilight  evtni  until  the  (U'cning 
of  the  next  day  ;  and  there  escaped  not  a  man 


EXETER    HALL. 


irs 


,  having 
liand,  he 
n  '  emote 
r  varioug 

a  favor 
IS  sword,' 
arpoBe  of 
e  oath  he 
!  to  mon- 

Ahigail, 
ful  coun- 
avid,  and 
,  aDf"  hia 
,er  her  re- 
al that  he 

sent  and 
(irst  wife, 
1 — and  at 
in  to  wife, 

•cession  of 
nmitted  a 
vas  cliur- 

ivid,  with 
k'enturers, 
md  a<>ain 

king  of 
the  royal 
I  give  him 
,'.'  Achish 
3  dwelling 
ilated  the 

brigand, 
ado  incur- 
of  hlspro- 
ift  neitlior 

away  the 
»,  and  the 
luestioned 
Huved  the 
n  against 
to  svipi)ort 
ing  being 
lays, '  And 
n  (dim,  to 
loy  should 
[i])rovokcd 
0  extreme 

gave  evi- 
by  basely 

with  his 
try;  but, 
[ted  to  go, 

found  that 
ntonly  de- 
itcred  and 
wives  and 
they  ex- 
ivid,  for  it 
[her  great 
H,  ho  wcmt 
liuni  of  nil 
)nicle,  and 
nt,he,witli 
otlier  two 
gainst  the 
avid  smoto 
10  ((Veiling 
not  a  man 


of  them,  save  four  hundred  young  men,  which 
rode  upon  camels  and  fled.'  If  the  Bible 
be  true,  this  bloody  restitution  was  awarded 
by  the  Almighty,  and  David  was  the  meek 
avenger ! 

"  When  Saul  was  dead,  David  was  recognized 
by  the  tribe  of  Jiidah  as  their  king ;  but  he 
soon  began  to  intrigue  for  the  house  of  Israel, 
over  which  reigned  Ish-boseth,  the  son  of 
Saul ;  and  he  encoumged  a  traitorous  projio- 
sal  made  by  Abner,  chief  general  of  the  aniiy 
of  Israel.  Fierce  wars  were  prosecuted  be- 
tween Judali  and  Israel — the  select  peoph; 
of  God.  Da\^d  finally  succeeded  in  being  es- 
tablished as  ruler  over  both  nations ;  but  the 
means  he  used  to  accomplish  this  object  were 
most  cruel  and  unjustitiable.  At  this  time, 
besides  Miclial,  his  first  wife,  he  had  eix 
others ;  and  six  sons  were  born  unto  him  at 
Hebron.  Now,  liavlng  obtained  full  dominion, 
instead  of  giving  an  example  of  self-denial, 
and  making  an  endeavor  to  pnmiote  ])eace  and 
g(K)d-wiIl  among  men,  the  text  says,  '  And 
David  took  him  more  concubines  and  wives 
out  of  Jerusalem  after  he  was  come  from 
Hebron.'  Then,  under  direction  of  the  Lord, 
he  continued  to  war,  dealing  blood  and  de- 
struction to  difiennit  nations ;  and,  following 
the  brutal  example  of  Joshua,  he  '  haughed  ' 
or  hamstrung  '  all  the  chariot-horses '  taken 
in  battle,  save  one  lumdred  kept  for  his  own 
use ! 

"  When  the  'ark  of  God  '  was  'set  ii])on  a 
new  cart  and  brought  out  of  the  house  of 
Abinadab,'  David  appears  in  a  new  character. 
Merely  girdled  with  a  linen  ephod,  he  danced 
naked  on  the  highway  before  the  Lord  and 
all  present.  The  linen  girdle  must  have;  been 
but  of  gossamer  texture,  as  his  first  wife,  Mi- 
chal,  sarcastically  rejiroved  him  for  i  le  in- 
decency in  these  words,  '  How  glorious  was 
the  king  of  Israel  to-day,  who  uncovered 
himself  to-day  in  tlie  eyes  of  the  handmaids 
of  his  servants,  as  one  of  the  vain  fellows 
shamelessly  uncovereth  liimself!'  For  this 
deserved  rei)roach,he  repudiated  Michal,  who 
had  been  faithful  to  him  when  he  was  poor 
and  unknown  ;  and  afterward,  upon  a  mere 
pretense,  caused  two  of  'ler  brothers  and 
live  of  her  sons  by  her  other  husband  to  he 
IiH/iff!  Bishop  Kit*o,  in  framing  an  i-xciisr 
.  for  this  terrible  act,  says,  '  It  was  desiral)le  lor 
the  peace  of  his  siumm'ssovs  that  the  lujuse  of 
Saul  should  be  exterminated!' 

"  When  David  was  al)out  forty  years  of  age, 
he  saw  a  woman,  who  was  very  beautiful, 
washing  herself;  upon  in(|uiry,  he  found  she 
was  the  wife  of  Uriah,  but  he  took  her,  and  she 
became  with  child.  To  get  rid  of  Uriah,  who 
was  one  of  his  soldiers,  he  gave  j>ri\ .'.+»( 
ordere  to  have  him  plac<>d  '  in  the  forefront  of 
the  hottest  battle'— for  batth-s  wcn^  then  of 
fre<iueut  occurrence — so  that  Triah,  ,  ^ingun- 
eupported,  was  slaiu.  David  then  took  liath- 
sheba,  the  widow,  and  made  her  another  of 
h'a  wives. 

"As  David  grew  older,  he  was  not  content, 
hut  was  anxious  for  more  conqiUMt-  :\nd  Ik; 
extended  the  boundaries  of  his  empire  from 
Egypt  to  the  Eiqdirates.  His  tri'atment  of  the 
vanciuiehod,  always  terribhs  was  at  times  very 
atrodouB.    Having  taken  llabbath,  the  chief 


city  of  the  Ammonites,  and  the  .rjreat  spoil 
it  contained,  the  text  says,  '  And  ho  l)rought 
forth  the  ]>eople  that  were  therein,  and  i)ut 
them  under  mtca  and  under  hnrrowfi  of  iron, 
and  under  axes  of  iron,  and  made  them^M.w 
through  the  brick-kiln,  and  thus  did  he  unto 
all  the  children  of  Amnion  !' 

"  Tlie  indecent  scandals  of  his  household 
are  recorded  in  the  Bible  ;  but  all  through  a 
long  life,  he  was  a  man  of  uncontrollable  pas- 
sion, his  self-indulgence,  even  to  licentiouB- 
ness,  being  of  the  grossest  character ;  for, 
when  he  was  old  and  '  stricken  in  years,'  the 
shameful  chro.iicle  was  added  against  him. 
As  he  drew  near  his  end,  one  would  think  tliat 
tlien,  if  at  any  time,  he  would  have  exhibited 
some  redeeming  q  lalities — some  remorse — 
but  the  picture  grows  darker.  In  his  last 
charge  to  his  son  Solomon,  he  betrays  trea- 
chery and  vindictiveness  almost  without  par- 
allel. Here  are  his  words :  '  Moreover,  thou 
knowest  also  what  Joab,  the  son  of  Zeruiah, 
did  to  me,  and  what  he  did  to  the  captains  of 
the  hosts  of  Israel,  unto  Abner,  the  son  of  Nex, 
and  unto  Amasa,  the  son  of  J  ether,  whom  he 
slew,  and  shed  the  blootl  of  war  in  peace,  and 
put  the  blood  of  war  uiion  his  girdle  that  was 
about  his  loins,  and  in  his  shoes  that  were  on 
his  feet.  Do,  therefore,  according  to  thy  wis- 
dom, and  let  not  his  hoar  head  go  down  to 
the  grave  in  peace. 

•' '  And  behold  thou  liast  with  thee,  Sliimei, 
the  son  of  Gera,  a  Benjamite,  of  Bahurim, 
which  cursed  me  vvifli  a  grievous  curse  in  the 
day  when  I  went  to  Mahanaim ;  but  he  came 
down  to  meet  me  at  Joru..r.,  ?ud  I  sware  to 
him  by  the  Lord,  saying,  I  will  not  put  thee 
to  death  with  the  sword. 

"  '  Now,  therefore,  hold  him  not  guiltless ; 
for  thou  art  a  wise  man,  and  knowest  what 
thou  oughtest  to  do  unto  him ;  but  his  hoar 
head  bring  thou  down  to  the  grave  with 
blood.' 

"  Thus  Daviu  passed  away  without  one 
word  of  forgiveness  for  his  enemies,  or  even 
one  word  of  regret  for  his  misdeeds.  Over- 
hung by  the  shadow  of  death,  vengeance  was 
ui)on  his  lips,  and  his  last  act  was  the  viola- 
tion of  his  solemn  oath  to  protect  Shimei. 

"  Who,  then,  at  this  later  neriod,  could  ex- 
pect to  be  regarded  as  righteous  by  following 
tlui  example  of  such  a  life  or  of  such  a  d«'ath? 
Tim  humanity  of  these  so-called  degenerate 
days  shudders  at  the  idea!  Who,  with  a 
true  heart,  would  not  prefer  yeai-s  of  iioverty 
and  an  unknown  giavti,  rather  than  live  like 
David  and  be  called  '  a  man  after  (jod's  own 
heart'?" 

During  this  delivery,  ^Ir.  Capel  was  several 
I  times  interrupted ;  Mr.  Baker  often  became 
nearly  outrageous.  He  would  not  permit 
pt'isons  weak  in  the  faith  to  be  contaminated 
by  such  heri'sy ;  and,  to  pacify  him  in  some 
degri'c,  Father  White  ))roj)osed  that  all 
iu'(!seiit  shouh'  bo  recpiested  to  retire  exce;rt 
the  churcli  ofiicials  and  a  few  others  who 
c(uild  bo  deyiended  m.  After  some  discus- 
sion, this  was  agreed  to  ;  a  great  many  went 
'•.way,  but  a  few  yet  liiigtu'ed,  here  and 
there,  as  if  their  interest  had  boon  increased. 
iSo  the  luinisterB  and  otUciaU  had  it  nearly  all 
to  themselves.        ,••;•.      •        i     '  ■ 


'>'<; 


134 


EXETER    HALL. 


^^  ;v 


1 


i 

\ 


it 


"'••^r 


i^ 


"  Brother,"  said  Mr.  White,  in  his  usual  mild 
manner,  "the  character  you  have  drawn  of  Da- 
vid is  only  such  as  the  Bible  gives  liim  ;  it  is 
on  evidence  of  its  impartiality ;  it  depicts  man 
with  his  defects  as  well  as  with  his  virtues. 
It  does  not  screen  the  offender,  though  it  ex- 
alts the  penitent." 

"  I  can  not  say,"  said  Mr.  Capel,  "  that  the 
recital  of  such  defects  can  be  profitable  or 
edifying ;  it,  on  the  contrary,  tends  to  give 
men  false  ideas  of  what  is  riglit.  The  inhu- 
manities of  profane  history  claim  no  lieavenly 
sanction ;  no  brutalized  leader  could  exhibit 
a  divine  commission  ;  men  acted  under  the 
impulse  of  human  passion,  not  as  hordes 
rushing  out  to  execute  the  vengeance  of  a 
deity.  The  actions  of  David,  as  recorded 
in  the  books  of  Samuel,  like  other  biblical 
biographies,  have  rather  a  tendency  to  blunt 
our  feelings  of  delicacy  and  humanity  than 
to  make  them  more  sensitive.  The  man 
who  for  the  first  time  sees  the  dead  and 
dying  stretched  upon  the  battle-field  is 
shocked  at  the  carnage ;  but  sad  experience 
has  proved  that  the  most  humane  become  in- 
different by  the  frequency  of  such  sights. 
When  we  read  numerous  accounts  in  the  Bi- 
ble that  conflict  with  the  prevailing  ideas  of 
purity  and  justice,  we  gradually  learn  to  ac- 
cept them  when  we  are  told  that  the  Almighty 
for  some  special  purpose,  connived  at  oxfawr- 
<5d  such  actions.  In  crae;lties  continuing  from 
the  Waldenses  to  the  Quaker,  Inquisitors 
and  Puritans  alike  have  emblazoned  their  per- 
secuting banners  Avith  authoritative  texts." 

"  The  Bible  does  not  exculpate  David,"  said 
Mr.  White  ;  "  you  know  of  Nathan's  stern  re- 
proof. That  David  sincerely  repented  is  fully 
established  by  his  Psalms." 

"  There  are  Christian  men  willing  to  ad- 
mit that  David  committed  many  vile  acts,  but 
the  Bible  accuses  him  in  only  one  instance, 
that  of  Uriah;  it  was  for  this  that  Nathan 
rebuked  hint.  But  notwithstanding,  he  is  de- 
fended in  '  Holy  Writ,'  and  the  text  which  I 
shall  repeat  is  ample  proof.  But  first,  Solomon 
and  some  of  his  people  were  threatened  for 
their  idolatry  ;  it  is  said  in  1st  Kings,  chapter 
11,  verse  83,  '  Because  they  have  forsaken  me 
and  have  worshiped  Ashtoreth,  the  goddess 
of  the  Zidonians,  Chemosh,  the  god  of  the 
Moabitcs,  and  Milcom,  the  gml  of  tlie  children 
of  Ammon,  and  have  not  walked  in  my  ways, 
to  do  that  which  is  riglit  in  my  eyes,  and  to 
keep  my  statutes  and  my  judgments,  as  did 
David,  his  father." 

"  Here,  while  Solomon,  the  great  and  wise, 
was  threatened  for  his  idolatry,  David,  his 
father,  was  commended  for  his  righteousness  ; 
and  when  the  Lord  i^romised  certain  favors  to 
a  successor,  it  was,  the  text  says,  '  Because 
David  did  that  which  was  right  in  the  eyes 
of  the  Lord,  and  turned  not  aside  from  any 
tiling  that  he  commanded  him  all  the  days  of 
Ms  life,  save  only  in  the  matter  of  Uriah  the 
Hittite.'  1st  Kings,  chajjter  15,  verse  5.  Lan- 
guage could  not  be  stronger.  The  aj)pr<)val 
of  David's  conduct  is  full  and  explicit,  one  act 
alone  being  cpndetnncid. 

'As  to  David's  being  the  author  of  the  Psalms, 
oonimentators  have  differed.  There  is  no  cn-i- 
deuce  to  prove  who  the  writers  were.    The 


137th  Psalm  could  not  have  been  written  till 
more  than  four  hundred  years  after  the  time 
of  David,  because  it  refers  to  tho^  ca))tivity  of 
the  Jews  in  Babylon.  If,  liowever,  sucli  a 
man  of  blood  wrote  the  Psalms,  no  one  could 
excel  him  in  dissimulation  ;  they  are  a  hete- 
rogeneous collection,  wherein  sentiments  of 
piety  and  self-righteousness,  imprecation  and 
vengeance,  are  freely  commingled  ;  and 
tliough  the  Psalms  have  been  ever  lauded 
with  amazing  obliviousness  as  to  their  de- 
fects, they  would  form  but  a  wretched  basis 
for  morality  at  the  present  day."  * 

Mr.  Baker  made  another  effort  to  silence 
Mr.  Capel  ;  he  said  the  evidence  they  already 
had  from  his  own  lips  was  suflicient  to  brand 
the  late  junior  preacher  as  a  ravening  wolf — 
an  out  and  out  defamer  of  the  word  of  (Jod. 
It  would  be  sinful  to  listen  any  longer.  Un- 
expectedly, hoAvever,  the  brethren,  as  if  desir- 
ous of  allowing  the  accused  to  commit  him- 
self to  the  fullest  extent,  consented  to  hear 
his  opinion  of  Paul ;  for  he  Avho  could  pre- 
sume to  utter  any  thing  against  one  fo  de- 
vinely  inspired  must  be  far,  far  on  the  higli- 
road  to  spiritual  infamy.  Father  White,  like 
most  preachers,  could  be  very  bitter  at  times 
against  i"e\ilers  'if  ,ho  word  ;  now,  he  mani- 
fested great  {;iit:  ...cc.  He  was  troubled,  and 
seemed  to  ponder  upon  Avhat  had  been  suid  ; 
perhaps  a  terrible  doubt  might  have  beeu  in- 
truding upon  his  own  mind  1 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Having  received  permission  to  continue  his 
reply,  Mr.  Capel,  to  the  surprise  of  Mr.  Baker, 
grew  bolder,  and  proceeded  to  give  his  opinion 
of  one  who  is  said  to  be  the  father  of  the 
(lentilc  church — tlie  thirteentli  apostle,  as 
"  born  out  of  due  time,"  yet  Avho  declared  of 
himself  that  he  "  was  not  a  whit  behind  the 
very  chiefest." 

"  Paul,  Avho  was  a  Jri'  and  a  Pharisee, 
though  by  no  means  so  iT'1.!';i.>  n  as  David, 
yet,  as  the  reputed  agent.  <t  le  high-priest, 
was  undoubtedly  guilty  of  inrr  r  ;  for  this, 
we  have  his  own  acknowledgixnut.  In  his 
speech  before  Agrip]ia,  he  said,  'And  I  perse- 
cuted this  way  unto  death,  binding  and  • 
delivering  into  prisons  both  inen  and  Avomen.' 
(Acts  23 :  4 )  He  Avas  an  accomplice  at  tho 
murder  of  Stephen,  (Acts  22  :  20.)  for  lie  stood 
by  and  kept  tho  clothes  of  those  Avho  stoned 
him,  '  consenting  unto  his  death,'  and  he  liad 
'  breathed  out  threatenings  and  slaughter 
against  the  diKci])le8of  the  Ijord.' 

"After  his  conversion,  his  fierce  zeal  Avas  but 
transferred  ;  for  when  he  considered  it  neces- 
sary, he  could  be  rigorous  enough,  liad  he  the 
poAver,  to  crush  his  op]K)nentH  and  extermi- 
nate heretics.  In  this  respect,  he  must  liaA'e 
been  the  exemi)lar  of  Calvin  and  others  of 
similar  views.  From  the  beginning,  he  evinced 
u  strong  desire  to  Im*  u  ])rominent  ruler  in 
the  cbureh  ;  he  was  arrogant,  had  dispittfl.ti<mfl, 
given  ott'ense,  and  had  many  enemies'";  and 
though  he  inculcated  charity,  humility,  and 
subniissit  i  to  as  Irreconcilable  an  extent  as  i» 
followed  by  some  religious  teachers  at  ihs 


pr< 

tie 

litt 

An 

th( 

ant 

ten 

del 

if 

de 

Juc 


to 


EXETER   HALL. 


186 


written  till 
or  tlio  time 
^ajitivity  of 
svor,  sucli  a 
o  one  could 
arc  a  liete- 
itiments  of 
*cation  and 
rled  ;  and 
ver  lauded 
')  their  de- 
cked basis 

to  silence 
ley  already 
It  to  brand 
inff  wolf— 
•rd  of  God. 
fi-er.  Un- 
as if  desir- 
inniit  liim- 
^d  to  liear 
could  i)ro- 
ono  Fo  de- 

tho  hi^h- 
^'llite,  like 
sr  at  times 
,  be  mani- 
Jbled,  and 
)een  said  ; 
e  bectt  itt- 


titinuoliia 
ilr.  Baker, 
is  opinion 
>r  of  the 
)ost]e,  as 
;clared  of 
Aimd  the 

Pharisee, 
IS  David, 
ffh-ijriest, 

for  this, 
In  Ills 

I  i)er8e- 
linff    and  • 

women.' 
"0  at  the 
•  he  stood 
lo  stoned 
d  he  had 
ilauH'hter 

1  was  but 
it  iieces- 
id  he  tho 
extemii- 
uHt  have 
ithers  of 
0  evinced 
ruler  in 
)utati()nfl, 
ie»;  and 
ility,  and 
ent  as  ia 
s  at  iho 


present  day,  he  was  nevertheless  in  disposi- 
tion intolerant  and  dictatorial,  and  caused  no 
little  strife  amonj?  adherents  of  the  new  faith. 
Anxious  to  make  proselytes  in  his  own  way, 
the  means  he  uschI  were  often  exceptionable  ; 
and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  had  not  a  consis- 
tent regard  for  truth.  If  Peter  cursed  and 
denied  his  Master,  if  John  was  presumptuous, 
if  James  was  vindictive  enoufrh  to  wish  the 
destruction  of  an  unbelievinf;f  village,  and  if 
Judas  was  such  a  wretch — if  these,  chosen  by 
Christ,  and  in  his  very  presence,  were  not  free 
from  sin  and  offense,  surely  we  may  admit 
that  Paul,  who  was  not  so  highly  favored, 
might  have  gravely  erred  himself — as  priests 
still  do — though  giving  excellent  admonition 
to  others. 

"  That  he  was  ambitious  of  being  distin- 
^ished  as  a  high-priest  in  Christianity,  many 
consider  evident  from  the  fact  that  his  alleged 
writings  are  said  to  have  been  the  first  forma- 
tion of  the  New  Testament.  Foiirtecn  of  its 
books  are  ascribed  to  him  alone,  the  other 
thirteen  being  the  reputed  production  of  seven 
persons,  four  only  of  wliom  were  apostles,  tho 
remaining  eight  apostles  having  obtained  no 
literary  position  in  the  present  com])ilation. 
The  admirers  of  the  '  great  Paul '  wish,  how- 
ever, to  make  it  appear  that  it  Avas  because  of 
his  peculiar  fitness  and  education  that  he  was 
inspired  to  become  the  initiatory  scribe ;  but 
such  a  plea  is  untenable,  for  we  are  infonned 
that-  on  the  day  of  Pentecost  tho  disciples 
received  tlie  miraculous  gift  of  tongues  in 
order  to  qualify  them  to  '  teach  all  nations.' 

*'  The  inference,  therefore,  is  most  conclusive 
that  Paul,  no  matter  how  well  or  how  early 
trained  in  the  high  schools  of  his  nation,  was 
not  as  well  (lualilied  for  a  mission  among  the 
heathen  as  those  specially  gifted  and  in- 
structed for  that  purpose  by  a  divine  power, 
long  before  his  conversion.  His  natural  pre- 
sumption, which  le<l  him  to  say,  '  For  I  speak 
to  you,  Gentiles,  inasmuch  as  I  am  the  ajmstle 
of  the  Gentiles,  I  magnify  mine  otFice,'  (Horn. 
11  ;  13,)  is  proof  either  of  his  entire  ignorance 
that  Christ  had  previously  made  special  a{> 
pointments  for  tlie  Gentiles,  or  that  he  was 
determined  to  act  quite  independently,  ir- 
respective of  the  authority  granted  to  others. 
That  such  api)ointnK'nts  were  mach;  and  such 
authority  granted,  I  shall  be  able  to  prove 
from  the  Scripturi's. 
"  Immediately  before  Christ  ascended,  he  gave 
his  disciples  promise  of  the  gifts  which  they 
subsequently  received  in  a  miraculous  man- 
ner on  the  day  of  Pent((cost,  gifts  wiiich  en- 
abled them  to  speak  the  languiigt!  of  every 
nation  ;  and  his  intention  as  to  how  the  gifts 
or  power  should  be  used  is  apparent  when  we 
read  the  text,  '  But  ye  siuill  receive  power  af- 
ter tliatthe  Holy  Ghost  is  come  upon  you  :  and 
yo  shall  be  witnesses  unto  \\w  botli  in  .lerusa- 
lem,  and  in  all  Judea.  and  in  Samaria,  and  itnto 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth.'  (Acts  1  :  8.) 
Again  he  told  them,  '  Go  ye  therefore  and 
teach  all  nations.'  (Matt.  28 : 1!).)  And 
again,  '  Go  ye  into  all  the  irorld,  and  iireacli 
the  Gospel  to  eirri/  vreatiirc.'  (Mark  1(1 :  lo.) 
These  c(mimauds  are  i)lain,  precistt,  and  ]>osi- 
tive  ;  when  the  disciijles  were  told  to  go  into 
the  '  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,'  to  '  all  na- 


tions,' and  to'  every  creature,'  no  one  cr.n  hesi- 
tate to  believe  that  they  were  fully  commis- 
sioned to  the  heathen  ;  and  it  is  more  leasona- 
ble  to  believe  that  several  pers(>ns  should  be 
re(]uired  for  such  an  extensive  mission  than 
that  one  man — Paul  alone — should  be  set  apart 
for  that  purpose.  That  he  therefore '  usurped 
authority  '  must  be  the  inevitable  deduction 
of  every  unprejudiced  mind. 

"  Paul  is  first  spoken  of  in  the  Acts,  a  book 
written,  it  is  supposed,  by  Luke.  It  is  mostly 
a  history  of  him,  and  tradition  says  that  he 
supplied  much  or  nearly  all  of  the  information 
it  contains.  There  is  not  a  shadow  of  evidence 
to  substantiate  the  miraculous  account  of  his 
conversion  ;  the  narrative  is  entirely  his  own, 
depending  altogether  on  his  mere  assertion. 
He  does  not  give  the  names  of  any  who  were 
with  him ;  neither  does  he  give  place,  nor 
date — simply,  '  as  I  went  to  Damascus.'  The 
story  is,  that  about  two  year"  after  the  cruci- 
fixion, being  on  his  way  to  persecute  Chris- 
tians, he  suddenly  saw  '  a  great  light,'  '  a 
light  from  heaven,'  not  the  personal  api^ear- 
ance  of  any  one  ;  he  then  fell  to  the  earth, 
heard  a  voice,  and  was  ordered  to  preach. 
This  miracle,  he  said,  made  him  a  believer  ;  tho 
story,  however,  contains  several  discrepancies. 
The  first  account  of  this  occurrence,  in  Acts 
9tli,  says,  that  after  they  had  seen  the  '  great 
light',  Paul  fell  to  the  earth,  but  the  men  who 
were  with  him  '  stood  speechless,'  hearing  a 
voice  but  seeimj  no  man  ;  the  second  account, 
in  Acts  23,  Paul  says,  that  the  men  heard  not 
the  voice  ;  and  in  the  third  statement,  Acts 
2(5,  he  says,  that  when  the  light  was  seen,  all 
fell  to  the  earth!  One  account,  therefore, says, 
that  the  men  stood  and  heard  a  voice,  another 
that  they  did  not  hear  the  voice,  and  a  third 
that  they  did  not  stand,  but  that  all  fell  to  the 
earth  !     WV.'ch  is  tlie  correct  account? 

"  According  to  these  different  narratives, 
Paul  saw  no  person,  only  a  '  light,'  which 
struck  him  with  immediate  blindness;  but  he 
subsequently  wished  to  leave  the  impression 
that  he  had  seen  Jesus,  for  he  reports  him  as 
having  said,  '  Fori  have  appeared  unto  thee  ;' 
he  made  Ananias  say,  '  The  God  of  our  fathers 
hath  chosen  thee  that  thou  shouldst  know  his 
will  and  see  that  Just  One.'  (Acts  32  :  14.) 
When  the  disciples  were  doubtful  of  Paul's 
conversion  and  afraid  of  him,  his  companion, 
Barnabas,  to  whom  he  related  the  miracle,  as- 
sured tluMu  that '  he  had  seen  the  Lord  by  tho 
way,  and  that  he  had  spoken  to  him.'  (Acts 
0:37.)  And  Paul,  in  addressing  the  Corin- 
thians, said,  '  Am  I  not  an  apostle?  am  I  not 
free?  hav(^  i  not  seen  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  ?' 
(I  Cor.  0:1.)  And  again,  having  declared  that 
Christ  was  seen  bymany  after  his  resurrection, 
he  says,  '  Ainl,  last  of  all,  he  was  .teen  of  me 
also,  as  of  one  born,  out  of  duo  time.'  (1  Cor. 
15  : 8.)  To  say  the  least,  the  ambiguity  of 
these  passages  is  very  great,  almost  a  contra- 
diction. 

'•  By  the  two  first  accounts,  we  find  that.at  tho 
time  of  bis  miracuhms  conversion,  Paul  receiv 
(hI  no  message*,  but  was  dlrectcKl  to  go  and  be  in- 
struct(Hl  at  Damascus;  by  the  last,  we  are  in 
formed  that  he  received  his  instructions  and  au- 
thority from  tlu!  Lord  at  the  very  luiur  of  liia 
conversion,  and  that  ho  proceeded  on  his  mis- 


'^m 


iw 


186 


EXETER    HALL. 


"r 


lUi' 


r. . 


c 


sion  forthwith*— no  way  afflicted  with  blind- 
ness ! 

"  Paul  evinces  a  desire  to  be  disting;ui8h- 
ed.  lie  claimed  to  -  be  an  apostle,  tlioufrli 
not  recognized  as  such  by  the  others,  the  num- 
ber of  whom  was  limited  to  twelve.  By  his 
cvvn  statement,  he  did  not  go  near  them  im- 
mediately after  his  reputed  conversion,  either 
for  counsel  or  to  manifest  contrition  for  what 
lie  had  done  as  a  persecutor.  II«>  kept  away 
for  '  three  years,'  and  boasted  that  his  right  to 
teach  was  independent ;  that  he  was  not 
taught  by  man,  he  liad  '  conferred  not  with 
flesh  and  blood,' '  neitlier,'  says  he,  '  went  I  up 
to  Jerusalem  to  tliem  which  were  apostles  be- 
fore me,  but  1  went  into  Arabia  and  returned 
again  to  Damascus.'  ((jial.t  :  17.)  Indeed,  he  de- 
clares that  ho  was  so  little  known  in  person 
either  to  apostles  or  disciples  as  to  be  'un- 
known by  face  unto  the  churches  of  Judea 
which  were  in  Christ.'  '  But  they  had  heard 
only  that  he  which  persecuted  iis  in  times 
past  now  preacheth  the  faith  which  once  he 
destroyed.'     (Gal.  1  :  23,  23.) 

"  It  is  surprising,  however,  to  find  this  rela- 
tion most  positively  contradicted  in  Acts  U. 
In  that  cha])ter,  we  are  told  that,  after  Paul 
was  restored  to  sight,  he  remained  '  certain 
days  with  the  disciples  which  were  at  Damas- 
cus.' While  in  that  city,  his  zeal  led  him  to 
enter  th'"  synagogues  '  ])rcaching  Christ '  and 
'  confounding  the  Jews,'  who,  no  doubt,  were 
greatly  annoyed  by  his  intrusion  as  well  as 
by  his  doctrine  ;  and.  governed  by  a  national 
impulse.  '  they  took  counsel  to  kill  him  ;'  but 
having  heard  of  it, '  the  disciples  took  him  by 
night,  and  let  him  down  by  the  wall  in  a  bas- 
ket.' He  then  went  direct  to  Jerusalem  '  and 
assayed  to  join  himself  to  the  disciples  ;  but 
they  were  all  afraid  of  him,  and  believed  not 
that  he  was  a  disciple,'  They,  it  a])pears,  had 
only  heard  of  him  as  a  persecutor,  and  had  no 
authority  for  his  conversion  but  his  own 
word.  Bai  'abas,  having  assured  the  ai)ostles 
that  Paul  was  a  l)eliever,  that  he  had 
'  preached  boldly  at  Damascus,'  they  confided 
in  him.  '  And  Iw  was  with  them,  coming  in 
and  going  out  at  Jerusalem.  Again  his  in- 
discreet zeal  brought  him  into  trouble  ;  he 
'  disputed  against  the  Grecians,'  and  they, 
most  i)rol)ably  incited  by  the  Jews,  '  went 
about  to  slay  him;'  and  the  '  brethren, '  to 
pav(!  him  a  second  time,  '  sent  him  forth  to 
Tarsus.' 

"  Furthermore,  in  his  speech  before  Agrippa, 
Paul  stated  that,  in  obedience  totho  '  heavenly 
visi(m,'  he  went  'Jirtit  unto  them  of  Damascus 
and  at  J(>rnsalem,  and  throughout  all  the 
coasts  of  Judea,  and  then  to  the  Gentiles.' 

"  If  he,  therefore, './/■/•.>(«'  went  to  Damascus 
and  Jerusalem  after  his  conveiVion,  how  are 
we  to  reconcile  this  account  witli  that  which 
declares  as  i)OHitively  that'  imnKuliately  '  after 
tlu?  same  event  he  went  to  Arabia,  and  did 
not  go  to  Jerusalem  until  three  years  sulise- 
quently'^  Commentators  have  failed  to  pro- 
duce an  agreement ;  such  glaring  iliH(!r(^pan- 
cies  atl'ect  tlie  credibility  of  the  dillenint  narra- 
tives. If  Paul  thus  contradicts  himself,  what 
reliance  can  be  placed  upon  his  stutemcuts  't 

*  See  Gal,  1 :  J6,  IT. 


To  account  for  these  contradictions,  some  sup- 
pose that  Paul  felt  annoyed  at  his  rtureption 
by  the  apostles — at  the  indifler.nice  of  them 
and  of  the  disciples — and  denied  being  near 
them. 

"  Having  started,  however,  \ipon  his  mission, 
his  constant  endeavor  was  to  impress  others 
with  his  assumed  authority.  IIt\  never  a]ii)eal9 
to  any  gospel  or  record"  of  the  Jerusalem 
church,  ho  never  points  to  the  true  apostles, 
but  seems  to  ignore  their  i)rer<)gative,  and 
orders  his  OAvn  epistles  to  be  read  as  sufficient 
for  his  converts.  '  If  any  nuvn  think  himself 
to  be  a  pro])liet  or  spiritual,  let  him  acknow- 
ledge the  things  that  I  write  unto  you  as  the 
conmiandments  of  the  Lord.'  (1  Cor.  14  :  37.) 
'  For  I  speak  unto  you.  Gentiles,  inasmuch  as 
I  am  the  apostle  of  tlie  Gentiles,  I  magnify 
mine  office.'  (Bom.  11  :  V,l)  When  giving 
certain  directions,  he  concludes,  'And  so  ordain 
I  in  all  churches.'  (1  Cor.  7  :  17.)  '  Where- 
fore, I  beseech  you,  be  ye  followers  of  me.' 
(1  Cor.  4:  IG.)  '  Be  ye  followers  of  me,  even 
as  I  also  am  of  Christ.'  (1  Cor.  11:1.)  '  Now, 
0".  concerning  the  collection  for  the  saints,  as 
I  have  given  order  to  the  churches  of  Galatia, 
even  so  do  ye.'  (1  Cor.  IG  :  1.)  'To  wliom 
ye  forgive  any.  thing,  I  forgiven  also  ;  for  if  1 
forgive  any  thing,  to  whom  I  forgive  it  for 
your  sakes,  I  forgive  it  in  the  person  of  Christ.' 
(2  Cor.  2 :  10.)  '  Brethren,  be  folloi^k-ers  to- 
gether of  me,  and  mark  them  which  walk,  bo 
as  ye  have  us  (me)  for  an  example.'  (Phil.  3  :  17.) 
'  And  if  any  man  obey  not  our  word  by  this 
ejiistle,  note  tl.at  man,  and  have  no  com])any 
with  him,  that  he  may  be  asluimed.'  (3  Thes. 
3  :  14.)  Priestly  arrogance  could  scarcely  go 
fur'^\er  !  From  these  passages,  it  is  idain  that 
his  cieoire  was  to  be  consiclered  eejual,  or,  in- 
deed, more  correctly,  sui)erior  to  any  one 
else.  No  other  writer  in  the  New  Testament 
presumes  to  such  an  extent ;  the  real  apostles 
were  comparatively  modest  and  humble  in 
their  assertions.  The  writings  of  Paul  can 
be  distinguished  fV'mi  all  others  by  the  fre- 
quent repetitions  of  the  pronouns  J,  me,  my, 
and  mine  ;  and  the  letter  /,  like  an  index- 
finger,  is  almost  continually  seen  in  his  epistles 
as  if  pointing  to  the  egotism  and  self-sufficien- 
cy of  the  scribe. 

"  Paul  was  jealous  of  other  teachers  ;  certain 
disciples  or  jireachers  having  visited  the  Co- 
rinthians, to  whom  he  had  partly  devoted  him- 
self, he  wrote,  *  I  am  jealous  over  you  with 
godly  jeah)usy.'  (2  Vuv.  W  :  2.)  And,  like 
numy  an  intolerant  high-church  and  low- 
church  Paid  of  th»^  ])resent  day,  he  not  (mly 
dealt  in  strong  imputations  against  these  teach- 
ers, but  denounced  tlieju  as  '  falsi;  apostles, 
deceitful  workers,  transforming  themsi^lvi'S 
into  the  ajjostles  of  Christ,'  (2  Cor.  11  :  13.) 
without  attempting  any  ])roof.  He  rinninded 
the  Corinthians  that,  as  a  teadxT,  he  '  was 
not  a  Avhit  behind  the  very  cliiefest  aix'stles.' 
(2  Cor.  11  :  n.)  '  I  say  again,  let  no  nuin  think 
me  a  fool  ;  if  otherwistt  yet  as  a  fool  receive 
nu\  that  I  may  boast  myself  a  little.'  (v.  10.) 
'Are  they  Hebrews'?  so  am  I.  Are  they 
Israelites 'if  bo  am  I.  Are  they  tlie  seed  of 
Abraham?  so  am  T.  An;  they  membiTS  of 
Christ '?  (I  speak  as  a  fool,)  I  am  more.'  (v.  22.) 
'  I  am  become  a  fool  in  glorying ;   ye  have 


EXETER    HALL. 


187 


compelled  me :  for  in  nothinjy  am  I  behind 
the  very  chiefest  apostles.'  (2  Cor.  13  :  Ki.) 
The  11th  clmpter  of  2d  Corintliians  is  almost  en- 
tirely taken  up  with  his  self-luudation,  coiitrast- 
ing  and  donouncinuf.  The  teachers  who  went 
amonpr  tlie  Cretans  he  also  condemned,  as 
'  miruly  and  vain  talkers  anddeceivei-s,  wlioae 
mouths  must  be  stopped,'  and,  ()uotin<r  tlie 
language  of  anotlier,  he  abused  th<;  Cretans 
as  being  'alway  liars,  evil  beasts,  slow  bellies." 
(Titus  1  :  12.)  Yet,  after  all  his  anxiety  to 
establish  and  control  cliurches,  the  Corin- 
thians and  (jialatians  almost  entirely  rejected 
his  teaching.  The  Cliristians  at  Jerusahm, 
it  appears,  did  not  approve  of  his  course  in 
suddenly  breaking  loose  from  the  Mosaic  law 
to  please  or  gain  adherents,  and  they  sent  out 
missionaries,  with  '  letters  of  commendation,' 
to  counteract  his  teaching.  (2  Cor.  'i  :  1.)  It 
was  against  such  that  Faul  was  so  very 
bitter. 

"As  a  preacher,  he  was  obtrusive,  given  to 
contention,  and  vindictive.  Ho  repeatedly 
entered  synagogues  at  Damascus,  Jerusalem, 
and  other  i)l!ices,  disputing  with  Jews  and 
Gentiles,  giving  oflense,  engendering  strife, 
and  causing  such  ill-will  as  often  to  place  his 
own  life  in  jeopardy ;  when  forced  to  leave, 
or  when  obstinately  confronted,  instead  of  an 
act  of  conciliation,  lie  would  give  some  harsh 
rebuke,  or  defiantly  shake  the  dust  off' his  feet 
against  them.  (ActsDi  :  51.)  Of  those  who  spokt; 
'slanderously'  against  him,  he  said,  their 
'damnation  was  just.'  (Rom.  3  :  8.)  He 
contended  witli  Barnabas,  his  fellow-laborer, 
and  sciparated  from  him.  (Acts  15  :  39.)  Ac- 
cording to  his  account,  Peter,  his  senior  in  the 
church,  was  bhiniable,  and  he  '  withstood 
him  to  the  face.'  (Gal.  2  :  11.)  His  intoler- 
ance against  those  whom  he  called  '  unlje- 
liovers  '  or  '  false  teachers '  proves  tluvt, 
though  ho  changed  his  religicm,  his  dogmatic 
spirit  was  as  tierce  as  ever  :  he  said,  '  If  any 
man  lov-e  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him 
be  anathema  niaranatha.'  (1  Cor.  10  :  22.)  '  If 
any  man  preach  any  other  gospel  unto  you 
than  that  ye  have  rec(>ived,  let  him  be  ac- 
cursed.' (Gal.  1  :  9.)  Unbeliiivers  were  to  be 
'  punished  with  everlasting  destruction  from 
the  prcsenci!  of  the  Lord.'  (2  Thcs.  1  :  9.) 
'  And  for  tins  cause  God  sliall  send  them 
strong  delusion  that  they  should  Ixdicve  a  li(\ 
that  they  all  might  be  damned  who  believe 
not  the  truth.'  (2  Thes.  3:11,  12.)  'Alex- 
ander the  coppersmith  did  nu:  much  evil,  the 
Lord  rewanl  him  according  to  his  works,' 
(2  Tim.  4  :  1-1.)  These  denunciations  are  in 
direct  opi)osition  to  the  admonition  of  Christ, 
which  said,  '  bless  and  curse  not.'  Paul  said 
to  his  hearers,  '  He  ye  foUoweis  of  Die,'  and  in 
this  dictatorial  mood  too  many  of  the  i)rieots 
have  trodden  in  his  very  foot.stc'pa — even  to 
the  present  day. 

"  i)et(!rmiiu>d  to  gain  pr<i8elytes,  he  was  plia- 
ble and  inconsistent ;  he  says,  '  Unto  tln^ 
Jew  1  became  as  a  Jew,  that  I  might  gain  tlui 
Jews.'  '  To  tlicni  tliat  iwo  without  the  law,  as 
without  the  law.'  '  To  the  weak  became  I  .,s 
weak,  that  I  might  gain  the  weak  ;  I  am 
made  all  things  to  all  men,'  (I  Cor.  9  ;  20: 21.) 
To  ])leas(^  some,  lie  professed  to  dislielieve  in 
the  utility  of  the  Mosaic  law,  and  declared  that 


'  bj  the  deeds  of  the  law,  there  shall  no  fleiSi  be 
justified.'  (liom.  3  :  20.)  '  Behold  I,  Paul,  say 
unto  you,  that  if  ye  be  circumcised,  Christ 
shall  i)rofity(m  nothing.'  (Gal.  5  :  2.)  Yet  we 
shall  see  that  on  a  certain  occasion  ho  agreed 
to  dissemble,  and  make  it  appear  that  he  '  walk- 
ed orch^rly  '  and  '  kept  the  law.'  After  having 
spent  some  time  among  strangers,  he  revisited 
Jerusalem  and  told  the  brethren  of  his  great 
success  among  the  Gentiles.  The  brethren, 
who  gained  many  converts  among  the  Jews  by 
adhering  to  the  law.  incorporating  it  with  their 
Cliristianity,  said  to  him,  '  Thou  seest,  brother 
how  many  thousands  of  Jews  there  are  which 
believe  ;  and  they  are  all  zealous  of  the  law.' 
'  And  they  are  informed  of  thee  that  thou 
teachest  all  the  Jews  which  are  among  the 
Gentiles  to  forsake  Moses'  sayings,  that  they 
ought  not  to  circumcise  tlieir  children.' 
'  What  is  it  therefore  V  The  multitude  must 
needs  come  together  ;  for  they  will  hear  that 
tliou  art  come.'  Here  was  a  difficulty  ;tlie  Chris- 
tian Jews  were  suit  to  learn  that  Paul,  who 
taught  a  violation  of  the  lawto  gain  the  Gentiles, 
had  come  among  them,  and  the  teachers  at  Jeru- 
salem anticipated  trouble.  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  Could  there  bt;  no  compromise  ?  No  ! 
nothing  but  an  open  act  of  deception  was  sug- 
gested to  preserve  the  peace !  It  was  to  be 
tlonethis  way — '  Do,  therefore,  this  that  we  say 
to  thee.  We  have  four  men  which  have  a  vow 
on  them.  Them  take,  and  purify  thyself  with 
them,  and  be  at  charges  withtlumi  (  tl'at  is,  to 
]>ay  his  propcn-tion  of  the  ceremonial  expenses,) 
that  they  moy  shave  their  heads,  and  all  may 
know  that  those  things  whereof  they  were  in- 
fonned  concerning  thee  are  nothing  ;  but  that 
thou  thyself  also  walkest  orderly  and  keepest 
the  law.'  The  deceyjtion  was  to  be  carried  so 
far  as  not  only  to  try  and  make  Paul  appear 
a'?  a  conscientious  upholder  of  the  law,  but  that 
the  Gentihs  among  whom  ho  had  been  were 
also  observers  of  it ; '  only  keeping  themselvea 
from  things  offc.'red  to  idols,  and  from  blood.' 

"  Then  Paul  took  the  men,  and  the  next 
day,  purifying  himself  with  them,  entered  into 
the  temple  to  signify  the  accomplishment  of 
the  days  of  purification,  until  that  an  offering 
should  be  made  for  every  one  of  them.'  By 
this  act,  he  therefore  betrayed  a  total  disregard 
for  principle  or  truth.  As  to  the  culpability 
of  the  other  teachers,  we  can  not  say,  for  the 
account  was  derived  from  himself;  but  he  wp.s 
not  reliable,  and  he  might  have  wished  to 
make  otluu-s  appear  as  temporizing  us  he  was 
himself.  Tlu*  deception,  however,  was  of  no 
avail ;  the  Jewish  Christians  had  been  too  well 
informed  of  his  constant  violation  of  the  law, 
and  before  the  end  of  the  seven  days — the  time 
reijuired  for  the  cereuKmy  of  purification — '  the 
Jews  which  were  of  Asia,  when  they  saw  him 
in  the  temple,  stirred  up  all  the  people  and 
laid  hands  on  him.'  The  history  of  this  dis- 
cre<litable  conduct  can  be  read  in  Acts  21  : 
IT-I'O.  On  other  occasions,  he  also  gave  proof 
of  his  insincerity  by  a  formal  compliance  with 
the  Mosaic  law.  lie  had  his  head  shorn,  '  for 
he  had  a  vow  '  (Acts  18  :  18  ;)  he  desired  to 
have  Timotheus  accompany  him  on  a  mission, 
and  to  make  him  acceptable  to  the  Jews,  he 
with  his  own  hands  actually  circuiucised  that 
disciple.  (Acta  l(j :  3.) 


';''>3'^ 


i§. 


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138 


EXETER    HALL. 


th 


} 


i*'*^. 


"  His  idea  of  the  social  state  was  absurd  ; 
his  bias  was  strong  against  marriage.  Though 
we  iind  liini  at  one  time  saying,  '  Marriage  is 
honorable  in  all,'  (Heb.  13  :  4,)  yet  he  repeat- 
edly insinuates  against  it.  '  P'or  I  (Paul)  would 
tliat  nil  men  were  even  as  I  myself '  (unmarried.) 
(1  Cor.  7:7.)  'I  say,  therefore,  to  the  un- 
married and  widows,  it  is  good  for  them  if 
they  abide  even  as  I.'  (1  Cor.  7:8.)  '  Art 
thou  loosed  from  a  wife?  seelc  not  a  wife.' 
(1  Cor.  8  :  27.)  On  this  question,  he  displays 
further  inconsistency  by  saying  that  a  widow 
was  '  at  liberty  to  be  married  to  whom  she 
will.'  (v.  39.)  Yet  he  declares  to  Timothy 
that  '  younger  widows,'  '  when  they  have  be- 
gun to  wax  wanton  against  Christ,  they  will 
marry,  having  damnation  because  they  have 
cast  off  tlieir  first  faith.'  (1  Tim.  5  :  11,  12.) 
Such  reasoning  is  totally  indefensible. 

"  lie  was  In  favor  of  caste.  '  I^et  every  man 
abide  in  the  same  calling  wherein  he  was 
called.'  (1  Cor.  7  :  20.)  This  is  an  unwise 
check  to  all  commendable  ambition.  He 
was  in  favor  of  servile  obedience  to  tlie '  higher 
powers,'  asserting  tha^, '  the  powers  that  be  are 
ordained  of  (Jod,'  concerning  whicli  nothing 
can  be  more  false  ;  all  experience  goes  to  estab- 
lish the  utter  rottenness  of  such  a  i)rojX)sition. 
The  acceptance  of  such  a  sentiment  would  be 
the  degradation  of  liberty.  Despots  might 
rule '  by  the  grace  of  God,'  and  men  submit  to 
every  usurper !  No  wonder  that  the  first 
seven  verses  of  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  Ro- 
mans have  ever  been  texts  and  letters  of  gold 
to  secular  and  ecclesiastical  tyrants. 

"  Woman,  too,  he  would  keep  in  ancient 
slavish  submission  ;  in  this  respect,  he  adhered 
to  Jewish  ideas.  '  Let  your  women  keep 
silence  in  the  churches  ;  for  it  is  not  permitted 
unto  them  to  ^peak,  but  tliey  are  commanded 
to  be  under  obedience.'  '  And  if  they  will 
learn  any  thing,  let  them  ask  their  husbands 
at  home  ;  for  it  is  a  shame  for  women  to  speak 
in  the  church.'  (1  Cor.  14  :  34,  35.)  '  Lot  the 
women  learn  in  silence  with  all  subjection.' 
'But  I  suffer  not  a  woman  to  ttuich  nor  to 
usurp  authority  over  the  man,  but  to  be  in 
silence.'  (1  Tim.  2  :  10,  11.)  These  clerical 
dicta  were  based  on  what  he  wishes  the 
ladies  to  accept  as  sufficiently  profound 
reasons.  '  For  Adam  was  first  fonued,  th»>n 
Eve.'  '  And  Adam  was  not  deceived,  but  the 
woman,  being  deceived,  was  in  the  transgres- 
sion.' (!)  Yet  to  make  up  for  her  disepialifica- 
tion  and  inferiority,  he  adds  a  word  of  comfort 
in  another  direction.  '  Notwithstanding,  she 
shall  be  saved  in  child-bearing,  if  they  con- 
tinue in  faith,  and  charitv,  and  holiness,  and 
sobriety.'  (1  Tim.  2  :  13, 14, 15.)  The  connec- 
tion, however,  is  somewhat  bewildering. 

"  In  trivial  matters,  too,  he  presumes  to  gov- 
ern women,  and  issues  very  frivolous  com- 
mands as  to  how  they  shf)nld  even  dress  and 
wear  their  hair  ;  she  should  appear  in  '  UiodoHt 
apparel,  not  "'ith  broidered  hair,  or  gold,  or 
IM'arlfl,  or  cosily  array.'  (1  Tim.  2  :  i),)  She 
should  have  '  long  hair,'  but  should  not  ])ray 
with  her  head  '  uncovered.'  He  said,  '  But 
every  woman  that  prayeth  or  pro])hesietli 
with  her  head  uncov(?re(l  dishonoreth  her 
liead  ;  for  that  is  even  all  one  as  if  she  wen; 
shaven.'    '  For  if  the  woman  be  not  covered, 


let  her  also  be  shorn ;  but  if  it  be  a  shame  for 
a  Avoman  to  be  shorn  or  shaven,  let  lier  bo 
covered.'  '  Judge  in  yourselves,  is  it  comely 
that  a  woman  pray  unto  God  uncovered?' 
(1  Cor.  11  :  5,  «,  13.) 

"  Man,  however,  being  in  his  opinion  her 
superior,  Avas  more  privileged.  '  For  a  man 
indeed  ought  not  to  cover  his  liead,  forasmuch 
as  he  is  the  image  and  glory  of  (Jod  ;  but  the 
woman  is  the  glory  of  the  man.'  '  For  the 
man  is  not  of  the  woman  ;  but  the  woman  of 
the  man.' '  Neither  was  the  man  created  for  the 
woman  ;  but  the  woman  for  the  ma'  ,'  '  For 
this  cause  ought  the  woman  to  have  power 
on  her  head  because  of  the  angels.'  (1  Cor. 
11  :  7,  8,  9,  10.)  This  verse  has  comidetely 
defied  the  ability  of  commentators.  What 
she  was  to  gain  by  the  '  power  on  her  head 
because  of  the  angels '  is  perhaps  wisely  in- 
explicable ;  and  like  the  meaning  of  many 
other  texts  will  be  made  known  when  it  can 
be  understood. 

"  Doth  not  even  nature  itself  teach  you  that 
if  a  man  have  long  hair  it  is  a  shame  unto 
him'i"  'But  if  a  woman  have  longhair,  it 
is  a  glory  to  her ;  for  her  haii  is  given  her 
for  a  covering.'  (!)    (1  Cor.  10  :  14, 15.) 

"  A  popular  author  may  impose  a  silly  tale 
on  the  public,  and  it  will  be  read  with  de- 
light ;  while  a  far  superior  one  from  an  im- 
known  writer  may  not  get  a  single  notice 
of  approval.  Doctors  of  divinity,  ministerial 
sages,  profound  theologians — all  of  tlu-m  emi- 
nent scholars,  burdened  with  the  lore  of 
distinguished  universities,  will  gravely  read 
these  priestly  absurdities  of  Paul,  and — must 
it  be  believed  V  actually  try  to  eclipse  each 
other  by  writing  enigmatical  comments  upon 
them  ! 

"  Though  the  women  of  our  times,  the  most 
resolute  church  members.  sei>ni  not  to  have 
yet  recognized  the  dcmiineering  spirit  which 
dictated  such  commands  ;  and  tliough  women 
are  the  most  active  agents  to  i)roniote  their 
circulation,  yet  as  to  these  mandates,  none — 
positively  none — will  obey  them.  They  are  a 
dead  letter  to  all ;  but  as  part  of  the  '  sacred 
word '  are  still  included  in  '  holy  writ,' 
and  disseminated  for  spiritual  edification ! 
And  were  a  Paul  or  an  A  polios  to  preacl 
them  again  among  us,  our  mothers,  and  sis- 
ters, and  wives  would  spurn  the  idea  of  being 
degraded  to  the  social  condition  of  the  women 
of  the  Bible. 

"  Like  other  ecstatics,  Paul  professed  to 
have  received  communications  in  dreams  and 
visions  ;  he  even  went  in  a  tran<H'  as  liir  as  the 
'  third  heaven  ;'  and  to  impress  all  with  the 
fullness  of  his  ])ower,  undertook  to  i)erform 
miracles,  but  the  evidence  of  this  gift  de- 
])ends  upon  his  own  rejiort  to  Luke.  He  was 
'crafty'  and  was,  as  has  been  shown,  willing 
to  ])ractii'e  'guile'  to  gain  converts;  even 
were  a  falsehood  necessary  for  such  a  purpose, 
he  could  excuse  himself,  and  say,  'For  if  the 
truth  of  (lod  hath  more  aboun(ied  through 
?»//  He  unto  his  glory,  why  yet  am  1  judgeil 
as"  a  sinner  V  (Horn.  3  :  7.)  H<^  was  high- 
minded  and  ])resumptuous,  and  said  he  wnB 
'  not  a  whit  b<'hln<l  tlie  vary  chiefest ;'  he  witf 
luimble,  'less  than  the  h'ast  of  all  paints.' 
He  was  vindictive ,  and  could  curse  his  en» 


m 


mt 


EXETER    HALL. 


189 


mies ;  he  ottld  assume  a  different  character, 
and  say,  Bless  them  whicli  persecute  you ; 
bless  and  curse  not.'  (Rom.  12  :  14.)  lie 
could  say,  '  For  there  is  no  respect  of  persons 
with  God.'  (Rom.  3  :  11.)  Yet  in  his  ninth 
chapter  to  the  Romans  is  to  be  found  the  main 
])rop  of  predestination.  '  Therefore  hath  he 
mercy  on  whom  he  will  have  mercy,  and 
whom  he  will  he  hardeneth.'  '  Hath  not 
the  potter  power  over  the  clay  of  the  same 
lump  to  make  one  vessel  unto  honor  and 
another  unto  dishonor?'  (Rom.  9:18,21.) 
He  wrote  to  the  Hebrews  that,  '  it  was  im- 
possible for  God  to  lie.'  (Heb.  6  :  18.)  To  tlie 
Thessalonians,  he  declared  that  (:ilod  could 
delude  others  to  believe  a  lie.     (3  Thes.  3:11.) 

"  In  many  respects,  as  we  have  just  seen,  his 
precepts  were  contradictory  and  his  con- 
duct inconsistent  and  prevarica'  Mifj:.  It  would 
take  me  too  long  to  recount  other  instances 
in  which  he  appears  to  disadvantage.  I  would 
not,  therefore,  consider  Paul  a  safe  guide  in 
morals  ;  and  in  my  opinion,  neither  David  nor 
Paul  was  as  well  qualified  to  teach  mankind 
as  were  many  of  the  ancient  philosophers  anc' 
moralists  who  never  e*'en  heard  of  Moses  or  of 
Christ." 

There  was  a  pautie,  Mr.  Baker  looked  as  fierce 
as  an  angry  inipiisitor  ;  the  Ijrethren  were  as 
tonished  at  the  boldness  of  Mr.  Capel ;  yet  his 
calm  declamation,  if  it  did  not  con\ince,*it  per- 
plexed ;  and  before  any  could  reply,  he  con- 
tinued, "  I  have  a  few  words  more  to  say,  and, 
if  not  trespassing  too  far,  would  like  to  make 
a  fuller  confession  of  my  reasons  for  leaying 
the  faith,  which  you  must  perceive  I  have  al- 
ready left.  To  be  plain,  I  do  not  consider  the 
Bible  the  inspired  '  word  of  God.'  I  have  la- 
bored in  vain  for  some  time  to  discover  who 
were  its  authors,  where  written,  in  what  lan- 
guage, and  at  what  time ;  none  can  tell,  all 
is  speculaticm.  Though  immense  expense 
has  been  incurred  in  the  circulation  of  that 
book  and  to  disseminate  its  doctrines,  yet 
Christianity  has  failed  to  attract  mankind  ;  its 
adherents  are  but  a  small  minority  compared 
with  the  whole.  I  do  not  believe  that  God  will 
punish  the  great  majority  for  their  ignorance 
or  unbelief.  I  never  could  heartily  believe 
that  a  benevolent  Being,  who  made  man  so 
fallible,  would  inflict  un  eternity  of  torture 
upon  him  for  nni/  offense.  'J'lie  wrath  of  man 
may  exist  a,'minst  his  fellow  for  a  time,  even 
for  long,  long  years ;  but,  as  a  general 
rule,  if  no  counteracting  influences  are- 
thrustui)on  him,  nature  will  interfere,  and  the 
plea  which  he  oft  refused  to  hear  will  at  last 
bring  pity  and  forgiveness  ;  I  ask,  can  God  be 
less  than  man  in  this  sublime  virtue  ? 

"  I  have  been  asked,  where  we  could  find  mo- 
rality or  civilization  without  Christianity  ?  how 
it  could  be  replaced '!  Man  in  every  clime 
gets  his  morality  with  his  humanity — the 
source  of  bis  love,  and  his  joy,  and  liis  hope  ; 
l)ut  these  good  impulses  have  been  too  often 
cj)ntrolled  and  misdirected,  Viy  superstition. 
The  religion  of  the  Bible  never  yet  clung  to 
humanity  with  fidelity.  The  human  mind  con- 
tains within  itself  the  germs  of  goodness,  which 
will  generally  increase  with  intellectual 
growth  !  Morality  and  noble  virtues  were  as 
iuUy  developed  among  tl  "  ancient  Greeks  and 


Romans  as  they  ever  have  been  since.  Cliris. 
tianity  is  not  progressive  ;  for  centuries  it  kept 
in  its  formal  track  ;  it  did  nothing  to  advance 
cotemporaneous  civilization  ;  where  it  could 
nt;t  re  press  the  spirit  of  progressive  innovation, 
it  tardily  followed,  and  then — as  it  still  does 
— it  unblushingly  arrogated  the  victory.  * 

"In  London  and  in  Rome,  in  Turkc^yand  in 
Japan,  on  the  Ganges  and  on  the  Nile,  creeds 
are  widely  different ;  yet  priests  of  every  be- 
lief  alike  denuvnd,  '  How  can  you  replace  re- 
ligion T  I  answer,  by  the  diffusion  of  greater 
knowledge,  and  the  establishment  of  less  in- 
equality among  mankind.  Crime  exists ;  it 
is  mostly  the  result  of  want  or  from  the 
dread  of  it.  Reduce  distress,  and  let  there 
be  more  rational  information,  and  you  in- 
crease human  happiness  ;  tills  can  be  done. 
The  blessed  task  will  remain  for  a  more  perfect 
and  paternal  form  of  government  than  man 
Ikis  at  present;  but  it  can  never  be  accom- 
plished by  any  form  of  religion. 

"  Man  must  be  led  to  advance  in  morality, 
first  out  of  a  regard  for  the  principle  itself,  next 
for  the  a]>probation  of  his  kind  ;  and  to  avoid 
the  inevitable  consequences  of  a  violation  of 
that  principle  which  are  sure  to  follow  in  this 
world,  not  because  of  the  dread  of  future 
punishment  '  beyond  the  grave.' 
"  My  friends,  I  feel  that  the  pursuit  of  truth  is 
to  me  most  painful.  To  some  it  is  but  the 
work  of  a  moment  to  bend  to  conviction,  and 
reject  errors  as  soon  as  they  are  discovered  ; 
with  mo  it  is  different,  I  yield  reluctantly, 
but  yield  I  must.  I  have  read  that  Bible  at  my 
mother's  knee  when  I  was  a  child,  and  heard 
with  pleasure  the  story  of  Joseph  and  his 
brethren,  of  Samson's  power  and  Solomon's 
wisdom.  I  read  of  th'^se  in  the  fuU  belief  that 
all  was  true,  that  there  could  be  no  trace  of 
error  among  the  then  luminous  ])ages  of  that 
book  ;  with  what  regret  have  I  discovered  the 
mistake!  I  must  soon  return  to  my  native 
land,  but  I  can  not  pass  the  old  church  to 
where  my  mother  often  led  me,  where  I  wor- 
shiped as  a  child,  without  a  pang,  to  think 
that  I  can  worship  there  no  more.  The  Sab 
bath  bell  may  reach  my  ear  like  the  soimd  of 
some  olden  melody,  but  its  influence  will  be 
gone  forever.  And  when  I  visit  that  mother's 
grave  in  the  quiet  of  evening,  I  can  not  again 
read  the  text  upon  her  tomb  as  the  word  of 
ins|)iration.  None  can  tell  how  deeply  I  feel 
these  things  ;  it  is  hard  to  exclude  the  pleas- 
ing illusions  of  the  i)ast,  but  truth  is  worthy 
of  every  sacrifice,  and  in  making  this  public 
acknowledgment  I  give  my  first  oftering." 

"  Your  regrets  are  very  poetical,  and,  if  re- 
port is  true,  you  are  to  have  your  reward,  the 
price  of  your  apostasy.  Well,  well,  friends," 
cried  Mr.  Baker,  "  such  a  blasphemous  tirade 
against  God's  blessed  apostle  I  never  before 
heard  !  I  am  even  now  surprised  that  I  could  sit 
and  listen  to  it  so  long.  It  is  a  miracle  that 
the  Almiglity  did  not  hurl  a  special  shaft  of 
his  vengeance  against  him  that  uttered,  as 
well  as  against  us  that  could  allow  his  temple 
to  be  desecrated  by  such  dreadful  profanity ! 
It  is  over,  I  hope ;  and  God's  mercy  to  U8 
is  great !    As  for  tliat  man,  lot  him  go  hia 

♦  Soo  Kote  n. 


■  W 


i"' 


^ 


'^^ 


140 


EXETER    HALL. 


i  i  ' 


'     ,M 


T    If"- ■ 


:«s . 


downward  road  ;  ■•.ve  will  not  curse  him,  but 
bis  bUxid  be  upon  bis  own  bead  !'" 

"  I  do  not  know  to  wluit  reward  you  al- 
lude," said  Mr.  Capel,  "  but  I  well  know 
wbat  I  am  to  expect  from  tbe  cburcb  for  my 
recreancy.  I  can  not  expect  any  more  indul- 
ffenco  tban  bas  been  granted  to  otbers  wbo 
bavo  been  forced  to  submit  to  conviction.  I 
have  bidden  nothing  from  you  ;  I  have  taken 
the  unpopular  side  ;  it  can  not  be  from  any 
sinister  motive.  As  there  is  a  charge  against 
my  character,  I  wish  to  bear  it ;  1  desire  to 
know  of  what  act  of  immorality  I  have  been 
guilty  ;  I  ask  what  is  to  be  tbe  reward  of  my 
ui)ostasy '!" 

There  was  some  whispering  among  the 
brethren.  Mr.  Baker  was  very  pressing  with 
one  brother  to  get  up  and  speak  ;  it  was  Wes- 
ley Jacobs,  the  local  preacher,  and  he  seemed 
reluctant  to  comply  with  the  urgency  of  the 
Buperiutemlent,  wbo  now  looked  as  if  in  no  very 
gracious  mood.  Old  Father  White  sat  aside 
by  himself,  and  he  viewed  tbe  young  man,  tbe 
late  junior  preacher,  with  an  ex])ression  of  pity. 

"  1  hope  no  person  will  hesitate  to  accuse 
me  of  what  I  am  thought  guilty  ;  I  am  here 
to  answer,  and  I  again  ask.  What  has  been 
my  immorality,  and  what  is  to  be  my  re- 
ward?" 

Mr.  Baker  sprang  up  quite  irritated,  and 
almost  shouted,  "  You  have  been  seen  drunk 
with  a  ])opisli  priest  in  a  tavern — that's  the 
immorality  ;  and  the  reward  you  expect  for 
your  shameful  desertion  of  the  faith  is  an  al- 
liance with  the  daughter  of  that  arch-fiend, 
Martin  Mannors !" 

These  words,  uttered  quickly  by  the  angry 
preacher,  took  almost  all  present  by  surprise  ; 
tbe  cat  was  let  out  of  the  bag;  a  burning 
blush  mounted  to  Mr.  Capel's  cheek  ;  and  the 
ancient  si)inster,  who  had  pertinaciously  re- 
maiu(!d,  gave  a  little  scream  ;  but  whether  it 
was  caused  by  the  abrupt  accusation,  or  from 
a  fright  occasioned  by  the  presence  of  a  fierce- 
looking  man,  who  rushed  from  a  back  seat  close 
to  her  side,  is  not  certain.  The  man  at  once 
raised  his  rough  fist,  and  cried  out  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  over  the  whole  place, 
"  That's  another  hypocritical  lie — it  is !"  This 
imexpected  interruption  caused  great  confu- 
Bion.  Some  of  the  brethren  were  for  laying 
hands  on  tbe  intruder ;  but  when  they  found 
be  was  not  a  maudlin  wanderer,  they  \n-ii- 
deutly  refrained.  Mr.  Baker,  however,  vio- 
lently demanded  that  constables  should  be 
Bent  for.  "  This  is  the  second  time  that  that 
man  bas  been  sent  here  to  disturb  a  religious 
meeting.    I  say,  let  him  be  arrested." 

"  That's  another  of  your  lies,  it  in.  lla!  ha! 
you  call  this  a  religious  meeting !  The  last 
time  1  was  here  it  was  a  bedlam,  and  now  it's 
a  shabby  police-court — ^^just  that.  Stand  off 
my  man,"  said  Kobert  to  one  of  tbe  brethren 
who  was  ajjproaching  him,  "  stand  off";  if  you 
come  any  closer,  I'll — yes,  I  will !  so  keep  oft'." 

The  brethren,  rightly  judging  that  be  would 
be  perhaps  as  good  as  bis  word,  were  afraid 
that  a  very  discreditable  scene  might  be 
enacted  in  the  bouse  of  Ood.  Mr.  Capel  very 
fortunately  interfered  ;  he  called  the  man 
aside,  and  prevailed  upon  him  to  leave  the 
place.    Kobert,  Avho  had  a  ^reat  regard  for  ISIr. 


Capel,  was,  like  others,  anxious  to  hear  wbat 
charges  were  to  be  brought  against  him  ;  he 
was  indignant  when  he  heard  Mr.  Mannors 
spok(ui  of  so  disresjiectfully.  When  be  left 
the  church,  at  Mr.  Capel's  bidding,  ho  was 
very  much  inclined  to  believe  that  Mr.  Baker 
and  many  of  the  saints  at  Ilampstead  were 
occasionally  influenced  by  a  si)iritual  poten- 
tate to  whom  no  good  Christian  would  dare 
to  ofl'er  up  a  prayer. 

Order  being  in  a  manner  restored,  brother 
Wesley  Jacobs,  tbe  local  ])reacher,  after  sc^me 
pressing,  said  that,  having  heard  that  one  or 
two  members  of  his  class  were  in  tbe  habit  of 
visiting  tbe  Ked  hion  tavern  for  the  jmri)oso 
of  hearing  religious  discussions,  as  well  as  to 
read  skeptical  books,  against  which  he  had 
often  cautioned,  he  went  thcr3  one  evening, 
and,  to  his  8ur[)rise,  among  others,  saw  Mr. 
Capel  sitting  at  a  table  with  a  stranger  who 
did  nf)t  appear  to  be  in  bis  sober  senses. 
Ui)on  inquiry,  he  found  that  the  stranger  was 
a  Catholic  priest.  There  was  a  bottle  on  tbe 
table,  and  each  had  a  tumbler  before  him 
which  he  believed  contained  intoxicating 
liquor.  He  might  have  been  mistaken,  but 
be  thought  that  Mr.  Capel  acted  rather 
strangely  —  unlike  his  ordinary  way.  "  In- 
deed," said  Mr.  Jacobs,  assuming  to  be  rather 
scrupulous,  "  I'm  sure  I  can  not  say  whether 
be  was  —  "  "  Oh  !  it's  no  matter — 'tis  quite 
sufficient,"  struck  in  Mr.  Baker.  "  Friends, 
you  see  that  brother  Jacobs  is  over-cautious ; 
but  he  bas  told  us  enough — or  rather  he  has 
l)rivjitely  told  me  enough.  Just  think  of  find- 
ing a  preacher  of  the  Gospel  sitting  in  a  low 
tavern,  side  by  side!  with  a  popish  priest, 
and  not,  as  I  have  discovered,  one  of  the  most 
abstemious  !  To  make  a  companion  of  an  or- 
dained agent  of  the  man  of  sin,  even  if  he 
were  as  sober  as  Father  Mathew,  would  be 
bad  enough  ;  but  to  be  on  intimate  terms  with 
one  whose  propensities  are  notorious,  what  is 
the  inference  ?" 

"  This,  then,  I  am  to  understand  as  my  act 
of  innnorality.  Well,  I  was  present  at  the 
time  and  place  mentioned  by  Mr.  Jacobs  ;  and, 
vMiTQ  it  of  any  avail  to  bring  witnesses  here, 
I  c(nild  prove  that  neither  1  nor  tbe  gentle- 
man mentioned  was  in  any  worse  state  tban 
I  am  at  present  ;  but  where  charity  is  want- 
ing, evidence  will  have  little  effect.  1  had 
been  out  in  tbe  country  all  that  day  with  tbe 
Rev.  Mr  M(;G linn,  and  accepted  bis  invitation 
to  take  dinner,  on  our  return,  at  the  Red 
I  Aon  ;  when  there,  we  partook  of  nothing 
stronger  than  ale.  If  this  act  is  sufficient  to 
justify  tbe  charge,  then  1  am  guilty.  As  a 
matter  of  duty  to  myself  and  to  others,  1  have 
attended  h(>re  in  obedience  to  your  sunimons. 
I  shall  not  reply  to  the  off'ensive  liberty  taken 
as  to  my  motives  for  disbelief.  If  Mr.  Baker 
can  conscientiously  sustain  the  ccmrse  he  baa 
pursued  toward  nu'  and  others,  then  I  can  not 
exjM'ct  strict  justice  before  his  tribunal.  1  shall 
make  no  appeal  against  any  decision  he  may 
recommend,  but  will  now  retire." 

Just  as  he  got  outside  the  door,  Father 
Whlt(!,  wbo  followed  him,  seized  his  hand, 
and,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  said,  "  Well, 
brother,  you,  I  suppose;,  leave  us  forever ;  I 
can  not  thiidc  that  you  are  >villful  in  opposing 


EXETER    HALL. 


141 


an  ancient  creed  ;  you  believe  3'ou  are  rifjlit, 
I  am  sure  you  do."  '  lie  kept  his  eyes  fixed' on 
the  ground,  and  was  silent  for  a  moment,  as 
if  troubled,  by  some  rebellious  thoujjlit,  and 
then,  almopt  in  a  whisper,  added,  "  You  may 
bo  right,  liut  it  is  too  lute  for  mo  now  to  tliiidc 
of  these  things !  For  long  years  I  liave  mad(! 
religion  my  staff,  my  hope,  and  my  light.  I 
may  linger  here  a  few  more  wlntcrH,  but  I  can 
not,  at  the  eleventh  ho\ir,  giv(i  up  tlie  lamp  I 
have  held  so  long ;  and  tliougli  its  light  nuiy 
appear  feeble  to  you,  I  must  now  bear  it  with 
me  to  the  grave." 

Among  the  records  made  at  the  quarterly 
meeting  that  evening,  there  was  one  to  show 
that  Henry  Capel,  late  junior  i)rpach(>r  on  the 
Hampstead  circuit,  was  expelled  from  the 
membership  of  the  Wesleyau  Metliodist 
Church  for  "  Immorality,"  and  this  was  at- 
tested by  the  rough,  cramped  signature  of 
"  James  Baker,  Chairman." 


CHAPTER  XXVIIT. 

The  autumn  had  passed  away,  and  the  fee- 
ble ray  of  an  evening  sunliglit  in  November 
rested  upon  the  window  near  Avhicli  Mary 
Manners  was  sitting.  She  had  been  engaged 
for  some  time  making  alterations  in  a  dr(>ss, 
and  the  heavy  folds  of  crape  whicli  were 
added  gave  no  token  of  returning  cheerfulness. 
There  was  no  formal  or  conventional  "  put- 
ting on"  of  that  which  she  did  not  feel ;  lier 
deep  black  raiment  truly  indicated  the  grief 
which  was  around  her  own  lieart. 

As  the  light  grew  less,  she  ceased  her  work, 
and  looked  up  at  tiie  fold,  gray  sky,  and  at 
tho  shadows  whicli  were  stretching  over  the 
distant  hills,  and  over  the  bare,  brown  fields, 
and  bending  down  as  if  to  rest  and  n^niain 
over  tlio  dim  city.  It  was  fiom  this  very  win- 
dow tluvt,  some  montlrs  befon,  her  mother 
was  awed  by  the  appearance  of  tlie  shining 
cross ;  and  now,  aa  Mary  looked  in  the  direc- 
tion of  St.  Paul's,  slui  could  just  distinguish 
the  same  ol)ject,  faintly  briglitcned  by  the 
waning  sunset. 

Alas  !  what  a  reverie  that  glimpse  brought 
her !  iJvery  pluise  of  her  mother's  mind, 
every  illusion,  every  event,  culminating 
in  insanity  and  in  death — a  grave  in  Hamp- 
stead cemetery,  and  a  prison  asylum,  per- 
haps for  life  !  Slie  looked  care-worn  and  i^alc, 
as  if  the  trials  of  years  had  been  crowded 
into  months.  The  course  of  her  life  had 
been  almost  completely  altered  ;  she  had  new 
duties  to  peiform,  which  slu!  undertook  cheer- 
fully ;  she  could  be  reconciled  to  the  sad  be- 
reavement ami  affliction,  but  the  scandal  which 
had  been  uttered  against  her  father,  and  the 
uncharitable  insinuations  of  the  pharisaical 
grieved  ln'r  sorely.  Her  mother  had  been 
for  some  time  in  a  private  a.sylum  ;  in  her  case, 
alas !  there  was  no  room  for  hope  ;  the  best 
advice  in  London  liad  l)een  ol)taiued,  but  no 
skill  could  induce  any  improvement. 

\V(dl,  among  other  passing  thoughts — al- 
ternate vistas  of  the  memory,  dark  aijd  b>-ight 
— it  was  jiossible,  or  rather  probable,  that  she 
should  think  of  Mr.  Capel,  ho  who  had  beeu 


with  them  for  so  many  month*?.  Ah  me !  for 
how  many  pleasant  days— whose  stay  had 
been  so  agreeable;  who  had  been  so  like  a 
brother ;  and  whose  good,  kind,  gencsrous 
disposition  liad  so  won  the  esteem  of  those 
who  knew  him  beat.  She  did  think  of  liim ; 
she  was  aware  of  his  change  of  opinion,  of 
his  expulsion,  and  of  the  discreditable  at- 
temjits  made  to  injure  his  reputation  and  af- 
fect his  prospects  for  life.  She  knew  of  these, 
and,  could  he  learn  tho  great  depth  of  her 
sympathy  for  him,  how  clieerfally  he  would 
have  borne  every  reproach,  and  braved  every 
enmity  to  live  and  gain  her  favor.  But 
there  was  anotlier  reason  why  her  thoughts 
now  reverted  to  him — she  was  even  troubled — 
he  was  soon  going  to  return  to  Ireland,  to 
leave  them,  peidiaps,  forever.  He  had  too  much 
spirit  to  remain  any  longer  like  a  depen- 
dent upon  her  father,  more  particularly  as  the 
l)usy  tongues  of  Mr.  Baker  and  some  of  the 
brethren  had  attributed  his  change  of  faith 
as  well  as  his  protracted  stay  at  Harajjstead 
cottage  to  a  certain  motive.  For  this  reason 
he  had  left  the  residence  of  Mr.  Manners,  and 
since  his  almost  ex-parte  trial  had  been  stay- 
ing witli  his  friend,  Father  McGlinn  ;  under 
such  peculiar  circumstances,  it  would  not, 
therefore,  be  prudent  to  press  him  to  remain 
at  Hampstead. 

Mary  might  not  have  been  told  all  this,  but 
she  suspected  sometliing  of  the  kind  and  she 
appreciated  his  delicate  consideration.  She 
believed  he  was  poor ;  she  knew  he  had  no 
profession,  trade,  or  occupation — perhaps  no 
well-to-do  relatives  willing  to  aid  him  ;  and, 
in  ima^-^i  nation,  shfe  followed  him  from  place  to 
place  in  is  waudermgs  for  a  position  of  some 
kind ;  she  knew  how  soon  an  evil  word  would 
bear  against  him.  The  Wntchman,  the  Metho- 
dist organ,  had  already  given  its  wanting  to 
the  faithful ;  she  knew  he  would  have  the  K'jorn 
and  rebuke  of  the  godly  and  the  suspici(m  of 
the  formalist.  She  fancied  him  buffetid 
about  by  misfortune — poor,  and  friendless, 
and  hopeless — until  at  last  he  sunk  in  despair, 
menting  the  fate  of  a  thousand  others.  She 
then  wondered,  as  she  often  did  before,  why 
she  should  be  so  troubled  about  a  comnarati/e 
stranger;  she  shrank  from  the  tho':^lit  of 
making  him  one,  she  could  not  look  upon 
him  as  such  ;  she,  as  yet,  scarcely  understood 
her  own  feelings  toward  him,  though  they 
were  a  fresh  cause  of  anxiety  ;  ytit,  such  as 
they  were,  she  felt  a  kind  of  pleasure  in  their 
indulgence;  and  now  she  sat  considering  how 
slie  could  be  of  benefit  to  him,  how  she,  poor 
thing!  unskilled  in  the  rough  matters  of  life, 
could  advanc<!  his  future  prospects ;  she  did 
not  want  to  see  him  borne  out  inio  the  great 
contending  crowd,  and  })ass  away  forevtT. 

By  what  means  could  she  introduce  the 
subject  to  her  father  '1  What  a  relief  it  would 
be  could  she  speak  her  mind  to  him  fully  and 
freely  as  in  other  matters,  and  tell  him  of  her 
fears,  and  of  the  mountain  of  pious  prejudice 
that  would  lie  in  the  wanderer's  way.  How 
could  she  enlist  him  to  act  in  behalf  of  that 
young  man  ?  But  alas!  she  could  not  frame 
the  most  simple  speech  for  her  father's  ear ;  she 
could  find  ready  words  for  any  one  else,  for  the 
greatest  stranger,  but  not  for  Henry  Capel— 


^!**. 


I     4" 


k 


142 


EXETER    HALL. 


:;! 


^.. 


■why  not  for  liim?  To  find  a  proper  answer 
for  her  own  plain  query  caused  her  great  em- 
barrassnu'iit. 

Mr.  Mannors  might  liave  thouglit  of  the 
future  prospects  of  his  young  friend,  and  most 
probably  did.  IJo  was  ono  of  thost^  who  nat- 
urally anticipated  the  wants  of  others,  and 
tried  to  provide  for  them  ;  he  was  among  the 
least  selfish  of  the  earth. 

lie  perhaps  knew  that  Mr.  Capel  had  no  re- 
sources, and  he  might  have  laid  some  plan  for 
his  advantage ;  but  any  thing  he  did,  or  inten- 
ded to  do,  in  this  respect,  lie  kept  entirely  to 
himself.  Though  his  allliction  was  heavy, 
and  though  the  tongue  of  scandal  was  busy, 
yet  his  old  cheerful  manner  remained ;  and 
he  tried  to  lighten  the  burden  of  others,  hid- 
ing the  care  which  was  so  weighty  to  himself. 
As  for  Mary,  no  daughter  could  have  been 
more  dutiful  or  aftectionate  ;  his  first  desire 
was  to  promote  her  happiness,  and,  as  she  was 
all  now  to  him,  he  was  determined  to  do  every 
thing  in  his  power  to  make  her  future  as 
bright  and  as  free  from  the  bleak  shadows  of 
advi^rsity  as  possible. 

Mr.  Mannors  had  the  faculty  of  judging  cha- 
racter almost  at  a  glance.  In  an  incjuiry,  he 
fixed  his  mild  gray  eye  upon  you,  and  if  there 
was  any  wavering  from  strict  integrity,  if 
there  was  any  lurking  deceit,  he  knew  it  at 
once.  It  would  be  very  difficult  for  one  who 
■was  a  pretender  to  escape  detection  at  his 
hands.  Now,  Mr.  Capel  had  been  as  one  of 
his  family  for  several  months,  and  from  the 
first  hour  that  he  entered  the  cottage,  Mr. 
Mannors  was  impressed  in  his  favor  as  being 
worthy  of  all  confidence ;  and,  day  after  day, 
as  the  character  and  disposition  of  the  young 
preacher  became  more  developed,  fco  much  the 
more  was  that  confidence  in  him  established. 
Indeed,  it  was  one  of  Mrs.  !Mannors's  peculiar 
enjoyments  to  hear  her  husband  commend  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel  as  he  did  Mr.  Capel ; 
and  every  one  in  Hampstead  cottage  seemed 
to  anticiiiate  with  pleasure  his  return  from 
the  circuit.  Such'  regard  did  not  escape  the 
observation  of  Mr.  Mannors ;  and  he  rightly 
judged  that  one  so  gentle  and  confiding,  yet 
so  discriminating  as  his  daughter,  could  not 
be  less  appreciative.  He  was  a  close  obser- 
ver, and  for  some  time  he  noticed  symptoms, 
the  least  of  which,  he  thouglit,  indicated  that 
deep  down  in  poor  Mary's  heart  there  was  a 
feeling  which  she  tried  to  hide  even  from  liei-- 
Belf  and  from  all  others  ;  but  of  this  he  was 
determined  to  be  more  fully  assured. 

"  Well,  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Mannors,  entering 
the  dusky  room,  "  so  we  are  going  to  lose  Mr. 
Cupel ;  1  have  just  come  in  to  say  that  he  will 
call  here  to-morrow  to  bid  ua  adieu.  How 
sorry  I  am  for  this  !  I  was  very  much  pleased 
witli  his  society,  and  few  indeed  will  miss 
him  as  I  shall.  He  tells  me  that  he  is  going 
at  once  to  Ireland.  I  question  much  if  he 
"well  knows  what  he  is  going  there  for ;  how- 
ever, it  seems  best  to  him,  and  though  Ave 
may  never  see  him  again,  I  shall  always 
remember  him  as  deserving  of  my  highest  re- 
gard. I  am  sure  we  shall  all  regret  his  de])ar- 
turo.  I  had  hopes  that  the  pleasing  acquaint- 
ance we  had  formed  would  have  continued  for 
yeurs ;  what  a  pity  that  our  intimacy  should 


be  so  short !  Thus  it  is,  Pop ;  they  will  leavo 
us  ono  by  one ;  one  to-day  and  anothur  to- 
morrow, and  you  and  I  arc  to  bo  left  alone." 

How  fortunate  it  was  for  her  that  the  dim 
light  prevented  her  father  from  observing  the 
sudden  pallor  that  blanched  her  cheek  and 
brow !  She  could  have  fallen,  but  made  a 
powerful  effort  to  cling  to  the  chair ;  as  for 
words,  she  could  find  no  utterance — the  eff'orl 
to  articulate  seemed  to  choke  her.  What 
would  she  not  have  then  given  to  be 
alone  ? 

"  How  cold  your  forehead  is,  child  ;  and  so 
are  your  cheeks."  He  passed  his  hand  tender- 
ly over  lier  face  and  head,  and  she  shrunk  back 
at  the  touch.  "  Why,  you  almost  tremble  ! 
Mary,  you  must,  T  fear,  be  ill." 

She  could  just  reply,  "Indeed,  pa,  I  feel 
quite  well,  only  perhaps  a  little  chilly.  Don't 
you  find  the  room  very  cold  V"  and  she  moved 
away  from  the  ojx-'n  door. 

"  No,  not  particularly  so ;  not  forme,  at  least. 
You  have  been  too  much  confined  lately  ;  after 
this,  we  must  walk  or  drive  out  oftener.  Since 
Mr.  Capel  left  the  house,  you  have  been  out 
very  seldom.  I  have,  I  fear,  been  too  negli- 
gent ;  but  I  will  take  you  again  over  some  of 
his  favorite  drives ;  it  will  renew  him  in  our 
memory — at  least  it  will  in  mine — when  ho  is 
lar  away,  poor  fellow !" 

That  sad  heart  was  again  fluttering,  beat- 
ing, bounding,  but  it  would  not  do  for  Mary 
to  be  silent ;  ol> !  what  a  struggle  to  appear 
calm  ;  her  mute  anguish  could  have  been  elo- 
quent in  tears,  but  she  dare  not  weep,  she 
must  now  speak.  "  He  leaves  to-morrow,  then, 
does  he,  pa  V"  said  slu',  trying  to  assume  a  tone 
of  indifference.  "  Well,  I'm  sure  we  shall  all 
bo  very  sorry.  He  may  not  be  back  again,  you 
think  V" 

"  No,  I  don't  suppose  he  ever  expects  to  re- 
turn ;  he  has  no  tie  here ;  save  our  sympathy, 
he  can  have  no  inducement  to  remain.  The 
^Methodists  are  now  his  bitter  enemies,  and 
you  know  the  slander  of  the  godly  is  the  most 
defamatory.  He  may,  perhaps,  think  of  going 
to  America  or  to  Australia,  to  any  place  where 
he  may  not  be  known  as  an  apostate  preacher. 
Wliat  a  shame  that  he  should  be  driven,  for 
conscience'  sake,  like  an  Ishmael,  away  from 
home  and  friends ;  but  alas  I  he  has  no  home, 
and  where  are  his  friends  V 

"  Neither  home  nor  friends !  that  is  very 
sad,  i»a,"  said  she,  with  tremulous  voice.  She 
could  hardly  control  her  feelings;  she  would 
have  gladly  rushed  into  her  father's  arms,  and 
have  wept  and  pleaded  for  the  dear  friend 
who  was  about  to  be  cast  out  upon  the  world  ; 
but  that  dreadful,  unnatural  restraint  kept 
her  back,  that  «ucontrollable  influence  which 
would  now  make  her  appear  so  different  from 
what  she  really  was  ;  she  still  sat  like  a  statue, 
merely  repeating  the  bleak  monosyllables. 
"  No  home  nor  friends !" 

"  Well,  child,  he  is  still  young,  and.  though 
going  out  alone  upon  the  stormy  sea  of  life, 
like  a  bark  into  a  tempest,  he  may  yet  reach 
some  favored  port,  and  find  those  who  may 
learn  to  esteem  liim.  I  have  no  doubt  of  his 
success  ;  it  will  be  gratifying  to  hoar  of  this. 
We  shall  see  him  to-morrow,  and  learn  more 
of  lu8  intentions."    And  Mr.  Mannors,  having 


EXETER   HALL. 


148 


some  business  to  transact,  kissed  liis  daiigliter's 
forehead,  and  bid  hc^r  Kood-uipflit. 

Wlien  ho  entered  liia  own  room,  he  i)aced  it 
backward  and  forward  lor  some  time,  in  deep 
tliougflit ;  he  tlieu  sat  at  liis  desk  and  drew 
from  it  a  parclimeut,  wliich  he  carefully  read 
over;  afterward  he  wrote  two  or  three  lonjf 
letters,  and  thisn  retired. 

Poor  Mary,  left  alone,  sat  for  hours  at  the 
window,  watchinj?  the  (flimuier  of  distant 
lights  and  looking  up  at  the  great  black 
night-clouds,  moving  slowly  over  the  leafless 
trees.  8he  listened  to  every  sound,  as  if  an- 
ticipating some  farewell  step  [)assing  through 
the  garden;  and  then,  with  her  face  almost 
touching  the  glass,  slio  peered  out  into  the 
darkness,  like  one  watching  for  a  bright  star 
to  cheer  the  rayless  night.  Like  her  fatluT, 
she  delighted  in  thinking  and  suggesting  for 
the  good  of  others;  but  now  she  was  unable 
to  shape  any  idea  for  the  benelit  of  him  she 
was  so  anxious  to  serve ;  and,  totally  failing 
in  this,  she,  pi  rhaps  ibr  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  began  to  think  of  her  own  future. 

The  cruel  morning  came  at  last ;  a  cold, 
drizzling  rain  had  set  in  for  some  time,  and  the 
melancholy  season  imparted  deeper  gloom  to 
everything  in  and  around  Hampstead.  The 
old  clock  in  the  churcli  tower  struck  the  hours, 
and  the  sound  reached  the  ear  like  a  distant 
wail — not  like  tbe  full,  clear,  ringing  tone  it 
often  gave  in  happier  days.  The  trees  in  the 
small  park  stood  up  like  a  long  row  of  silent 
mourners  awaiting  a  great  funeral,  and  au 
air  of  sadness  seemed  to  pervade  all.  Even 
the  very  children  who  ventured  to  rush  out 
into  the  splashy,  guttered  highways  were 
discouraged  from  i)lay  by  the  chill,  dreary 
sky,  and'  ran  back  again  to  the  more  cheerful 
fireside, 

Mr.  Mannors  awaited  bis  expected  friend  ; 
he  sat  in  the  parlor  looking  over  the  morning 
paper,  and  Mary,  with  pale  face  and  beating 
heart,  went  briskly  from  room  to  room,  bust- 
ling about  as  if  she  had  scarcely  a  minute  to  sit 
and  think  of  any  thing  in  particular.  Haunali, 
who  had  been  for  some  time  on  the  look-out 
for  the  visitor,  was  rather  surprised  at  her 
unasual  diligence  ;  and  as  Mary  occasionally 
passed  her  father,  he  would  raise  his  eyes  from 
the  paper,  and  look  thoughtfully  after  her,  as  if 
in  doubt  of  his  own  penetration. 

About  eleven  o'clock  a  carriage  drove  up 
to  tlie  gate ;  a  small  trunk  was  fastened  be- 
hind, and  two  persons  alighted.  Robert,  who 
was  in  waiting,  warmly  shook  Mr.  Capel's 
proffered  hand,  and  bowed  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Mc(Jlinn,  as  he  followed  his  friend  toward 
the  house.  Mr.  Mannors  received  them  both 
at  the  door  ;  and  Mary  quickly  left  the  room, 
in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  get  a  moment  or 
two  to  compose  hers  'If,  and  to  try  and  wear 
a  look  tlic  very  opposite  of  what  slic  felt. 

"  Well,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  McGlinn,  "you 
Bee  I  have  brought  the  truant  back  again. 
I  suppose,"  said  he,  looking  archly  at  Mr.  Ca- 
pel,  "  that  he  would  have  been  inclined  to  take 
French  leave,  if  I  had  not  kept  my  eye  on  him. 
I  know  he  hates  leave-taking,  and  for  some 
reason,  he,  1  ♦hink,  particularly  disliked  to 
pay  such  a  pro  forma  visit  here.  You  see 
nothing  will  do  liim  but  'go  back,'  as  the 


Irish  say,  to  the  '  ould  sod,'  and  show  his  lov- 
ing countrymen  thoSan  Benito  which  Father 
Baker,  one  of  the  VVesloyan  poj)e8,  has  thrown 
ujMjn  his  shoulders.  Faith,  such  an  invest- 
ment has  the  sanction  of  my  church,  any 
how  ;  the  good  ould  Ciiristian  way  of  decora- 
tion, so  as  a  heretic  might  look  a  little  more 
decent  on  his  highroad  to  tlie — well,  1  won't 
say  what  in  polite  company.  'Twaa  a  bles* 
ing  in  disguise,  1  suppose ;  ha,  ha  I  much  good 
Uiiiy  it  do  you,  Harry,  any  way  1" 

"  Indeed,"  said  Mr.  Capel,  "  I  could  never 
thiuiv  of  leaving  England  without  calling  here 
to  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  one  of  the 
kindest  friends  I  ever  met.  I  can  truly  say 
that  the  period  of  my  stay  at  Hampstead  has 
been  one  of  the  most  agreeable  of  my  life — one 
that  1  shall  forever  remember,  with  pleasure." 

"  Now  c'-m't  say  any  thing  about  obligOr 
tions,"  said  Mr.  Mannors,  "  or  you  will  make 
me  your  debtor.  Mary,"  said  he,  as  his  daugli- 
ter  entered  the  room,  "  here  is  Mr.  Capel,  ac- 
tually come  to  bid  us  farewell.  I  am  sorry, 
very  sorry  for  this  ;  I  wish  we  could  keep  him 
longer,  for  it  may  be  some  time  before  we  all 
meet  again." 

Mr.  Capel's  cheek  was  flushed  as  ho  looked 
at  Mary  ;  he  was  surprised  at  the  change  ;  ho 
had  not  seen  her  for  several  days,  and  now  he 
perceived  a  f  ad  alteration. 

She  was  dressed  in  deep  black ;  there  was 
an  expression  of  care  upon  her  pale  face 
which  he  had  never  noticed  before.  The  de- 
lightful vivacity  of  her  nature  had  given 
way,  and  traces  of  subdued  grief  were  still 
apparent  in  her  sweet  submission.  iShe  sat 
near  him  on  the  sola,  and  while  her  father  and 
the  kind  priest  held  a  conversation,  she  ven- 
tured to  tell  Mr.  Capel  that  she  hoped  he 
would  enjoy  himself  in  Ireland  ;  she  supposed 
he  had  friends  there  whom  he  was  anxious  to 
meet  after  so  long  a  separation. 

"If  you  mean  relatives.  Miss  Mannors,  I 
really  can  not  say  whether  I  shall  liud  any 
now  willing  to  acknowledge  me.  I  know  of 
none  who  wish  my  return  ;  they  are,  any  that 
I  know  of,  strict  chujch  members.  I  am  un- 
der a  ban.  I  would  like  to  see  my  native  city  ; 
but  I  never  shall  forget  Hampstead  and  the 
few  friends  I  leave  behind." 

She  would  have  liked  to  hint  that  there 
might  be  other  friends.  Some  particular  one, 
perluips,  whose  attractive  power  could  hurry 
him  away  even  from  his  good  friend  the 
priest,  but  she  could  not  trust  herself  with 
words.  There  was  no  way  in  which  she  could 
venture  to  conununicate  any  of  the  thoughts 
which  disturbed  her,  or  nuike  herself  under- 
stood. The  embarrassment  in  this  respect 
was  mutual ;  and  after  talking,  as  it  were,  in 
a  circle  for  some  time  upon  indifferent  mat- 
ters— as  remote  as  possible  from  the  subject 
nearest  the  heart  —  there  was  an  unpleas- 
ant pause,  and  either  would  have  given  a 
world  to  be  able  to  make  the  least  revelation 
or  to  obtain  one  word  of  encouragement.  But 
the  gold(m  moments  flew  by  ;  though  each  at 
the  time  considered  them  as  moments  of  des- 
tiny, they  were  allowed  to  pass  without  im- 
provement, and  inexorable  fate  seemed  to 
liave  fl.\ed  au  eternal  seal  upon  their  separa- 
tion. 


m 


'4i 


-'  ( 


!■ 


,  \ 


[,M^ 


144 


EXETER    HALL. 


.1 


m: 


^^^ 


"Time  is  nearly  up,  Harry."  said  Fatlior 
M'Glinu — ho  (iCtcn  used  tliiy  familiarity,  and 
calk'd  liini  Ilnrry — "  tini«  is  nearly  up;  tlie 
Cork  imckct  wtartH  at  six  ;  wo  have  yet  to  drive 
to  the  eify.  and  to  call  upon  Tom,  Dick,  an<l 
Harry  ;  and,  even  if  wo  spend  but  half  an  liour 
with'onch,  it  will  jrive  me  little  enough  time 
afterwaril  to  exorcise  you  and  give  you  the 
benefit  of  my  jioor  bloHsinff.  Friend  Baker, 
you  know,"  said  he,  turnin<;  to  Mr.  Mannors, 
"says  tliiit  Harry  is  possesHed.     Ha!  ha!" 

"Possessed  of  more  charity,  no  doubt,"  said 
Mr.  Mannors.  "  Well,  lie  L'aves  Hampstea«l, 
and  we  all  regret  it;  don't  we,  Poj)?  But 
lu'  leaves  the  limited  round  ho  lately  traveled 
for  that  far  nuire  extensive  circuit — the  wide 
world.  I  trust  he  will  henceforth  preach 
the  common  brotherhood  of  all  nations,  and 
the  groat  gospel  of  humanity." 

"  Fail h,  that  is  the  real  true  gospel — you 
have  me  with  you  there !  It  is  the  one  I  best 
understand  ;  it  re(i aires  no  learnea  commen- 
tators to  make  it  i>lain.  There  are  no  sects  in 
humanity,  no  mercenary  jMety,  nor  heartless 
intpiisitors.  It  is  the  great  creed  for  all  man- 
kind !  Wiiat  a  change  that  gospel  will  bring ! 
Do  not  look  8iiri)rised  ;  Harry  knows  that  I  am 
in  a  ptrait,  but  I  am  not  the  only  ecclesiastic 
that  is  prei>arod  to  stand  uncovered  before  the 
altar  of  reason.  Yes.  I  am  in  a  singular  po- 
sition ;  but  I  will  soon  have  my  liberty.  The 
dawn  is  coming,  an<l  wo  shall  soon  bo  suf- 
priscd  at  the  mu'iitudes  who  will  move  out 
into  the  simlig!  .  ;  thousands  who  now  tim- 
idly hide  within  the  shadow  of  superstition 
long  to  si'e  that  day.  When  that  pure  gospel 
shall  have  been  preached,  we  will  have  moral- 
ity without  creeds,  reform  without  cruelty, 
national  amity  without  threats  ;  the  priest, 
and  the  soldier,  and  the  executioner  must  dis- 
appear witli  other  concomitants  of  Christian 
civilizr.iion.  You  must,"  said  he,  addressing 
Mr.  Capol,  "  go  on  and  not  be  easily  discour- 
aged. He  who  attempts  to  reform  an  abuse 
must  expect  calumny.  If  you  attack  an  anti- 
quated imposition,  you  are  sure  to  be  waylaid 
by  the  prejudiced  and  interested.  They  who 
love  truth — not  they  who  live  godly — must 
suffor  persecution.  Take  courage,  and  let 
your  light  shine,  for  even  now  there  is  a 
growing  principle  that  will  uphold  the  right." 

Mr.  Slannors  then  handed  him  a  small 
package  whicli  he  said  contained  one  or  two 
letters  of  introduction  to  old  friends  in  Ireland, 
and  a  few  words  of  advice  from  himself,  which 
h(!  was  to  read  upon  his  arrival  in  that  coun- 
try. 

The  parting  glass  of  wine  was  then  taken, 
and  tears  ruslied  into  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Mannors 
as  ho  took  his  friend's  haiid  to  assure  him  of 
his  unaltoraljlo  friendship.  Father  Tom  had 
t)  cough  and  strut  smartly  about  to  hide  his 
emotion  ;  and  Mr.  Capol,  as  he  looked  out 
upon  the  ganlen- walks,  and  around  the  fami- 
liar walls,  and  then  upon  Mary's  i)ale  face,  it 
might  bo,  he  tliought,  for  the  last  time,  felt 
his  heart  almost  give  way,  and  he  had  to  hur- 
ry out  of  the  house  somewhat  abruptly  to  es 
capo  an  utter  breaking  down. 

In  the  hall  stcwd  Robert  and  the  good  Han- 
nah, holding  her  apron  to  her  eyes ;  and 
Flounce  sat  thoughtfully  by  her  side,  perhaps 


thinking  of   his  young  n  who  but  a 

short  time  before  had  loft  them  forovor. 

All  assembled  to  bid  Mr.  Cai)el  a  kind  farc^ 
well  ;  even  the  old  clock,  near  the  door,  ap- 
jM-'ared  in  waiting  like  an  aiuiont  retainer,  its 
pendulum  swinging  to  and  fro,  as  if  waving 
adieu  to  passing  time. 

When  Mr.  Capol  and  Father  Tom  left  the 
hospitable  liome  of  Mr.  Mannors  and  drove 
away  in  the  dreary  mist,  i)oor  Mary  hurried 
up  to  her  window  and  watched  ttio  receding 
carriage.  Oh  !  liow  eagerly  sIh;  followed  it ; 
and  as  it  grew  loss  and  less  in  thi!  distance, 
she  strained  her  eyes  to  still  ki-ep  it  in  vi(!W  ; 
and  when  at  last  it  was  buried  in  tlu!  Novem- 
ber gloom,  she  threw  herself  ou  her  couch  and 
burst  into  tears. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Rev.  DocTOn  Bustku  sat  alone  in  his 
study  ;  ho  had  been  reading  the  morning  pa- 
per, and  had  just  laid  it  asicU'.  Snow  tiakos 
were  falling  and  melting  in  the  muddy  streets ; 
and  as  the  weather  was  not  sntiiciently 
tonjpting  to  induce  him  to  leave  the  cheerful 
fireplace,  either  for  study  or  privat*!  prayer,  he 
made  amends  by  refilling  a  long  clay  pipe, 
and  then,  elevating  his  fecit,  on  the  sides  of  the 
grate,  leaned  back  in  his  easy-chair,  puflbd 
away  leisurely,  and  seemed  for  a  time  only  in- 
tent upon  wo  'ung  the  ascent  of  the  little 
whirli'ug  clo  A'  smoke  which  1  e  blew  out 

in  long  gri  s  toward  the  chininey.     He 

looked  very  i..oughtful  ;  now  srvveying  the 
grotesque  forms  into  which  liis  fancy  shaped 
the  glowing  coals,  now  glancing  at  th«i  array 
of  authors  quietly  ranged  around  on  the 
loaded  book-shelves,  as  if  awaiting  his  com- 
mand to  jump  down  in  defense  of  the  faith  ; 
once  or  twice  he  paused  to  listen  to  passing 
footsteps,  and  then  resumed  his  cogitations. 

Was  he  thinking  of  his  next  sermon  1 
Pshaw!  that  was  not  in  his  lino  ;  he  had,  like 
other  distinguished  divines,  a  jnle  of  the  most 
select  and  orthodox  discourses  laid  away,  suffi- 
cient to  last  for  a  lifetime,  should  he  require 
them.  Indeed,  his  mind  was  not  j  ust  then  alto- 
gether bent  on  heavenly  matters ;  generally, 
there  was  a  large  proportion  of  the  earthly  in- 
gredient mixed  up  with  his  contemplations; 
but  at  the  present  moment  things  terrestrial 
were  entirely  running  through  his  brain,  and 
things  spiritual  were  perha})S  judiciously  laid 
aside  for  a  more  convenient  season. 

The  most  notable  and  exemplary  Christian 
ministers  have  occasionally  to  descend  to 
worldly  affairs ;  human  ])asaif)ns  or  emotions 
may  not  have  been  sufficiently  subdued.  Sec- 
ular contamination  has,  alas!  too  often  dis- 
tracted the  attention  of  many  a  siint,  and  the 
reverend  doctor,  like  others  of  the  "sacred 
calling,"  was  often  forced  to  turn  his  consid- 
eration exclusively  to  the  weak,  lioggarly  ek>- 
mt;nts  of  the  world,  and  to  become  harassed 
and  agitated  by  the  i)erishable  things  of  time 
and  sense.  His  religion  never  yet  came  to  the 
rescue;  as  a  frail  man,  he  gr«fw  more  frail, 
until  vileness  was  a  chaructoristic ;  he  could 
never  learn  to  love  an  enemy,  or  oven  to  lor 
give  one ;  and  dreadful  thoughts  of  hatred. 


EXETER    HALL. 


145 


motions 
Si'C- 
;('n  <li3- 
and  the 
''sacred 

coiisid- 
irly  ele- 
lanvssed 

of  time 
to  the 
re  friiil, 
lo  could 
1  to  for- 

hatred. 


revenge,  and  blood  nltprnately  ovcrwliehued 
and  controlled  his  inipulscH. 

Miauto  after  minute  pnHsed  ;  at  times,  lie 
would  mutter  and  frovvn  (hirkly,  as  he  yazed 
at  the  red  bars — he  msver  Hinih^d  when  he  was 
alono — and  lu!  would  turn  frequently  and  look 
out  as  if  exasperated  at  tlie  dinaj^reeahle 
weather,  whieh  i>erhap8  helped  to  detain  him 
within  that  dull  houfo. 

After  a  time  he  got  up,  and,  having 
knocked  the  ashes  from  his  i)ipe,  went  and 
unlocked  a  small  cupboard,  took  out  a  decan- 
ter of  branily,  and,  huvin^r  nearly  half-filled  a 
tumbler,  drank  it  off  at  once,  without  reduc- 
injf  its  i)rimo  strcnprth  with  any  admixture  of 
pure  wat(T.  lb*  then  commenced  to  ])ace  the 
room,  and  wouhl  often  stop  at  the  window  to 
look  down  the  8lop])y  street,  as  if  anxious  to 
see  some  one  appnach,  or  as  if  expecting  a 
visitor. 

"Curse  the  brat!  it  is  now  nearly  eleven," 
said  he,  pulling  out  his  nuissive  gold  watch  ; 
"  does  he  intend  to  keep  me  here  all  day  ?  he 
must  have  got  my  note."  And  again  the  doc- 
tor looked  up  and  down  the  street,  growing  at 
the  same  time  more  and  more  impatient. 

A  tap  was  now  heard  at  a  private  door 
which  led  from  the  study  into' a  small  yard 
connecting  with  a  back  lano  or  alley.  The 
doctor  gently  lifted  a  corner  of  the  blind  of 
the  window  which  looked  mit  into  this  place, 
and  cautiously  peered  IVuni  behind  it.  In  a 
moment  he  unbolted  the  door,  and  Mrs.  Pink- 
ley,  well  mutlled  up,  entered. 

"Ah  Fanny!  is  it  youV"  and  he  actually 
hurried  to  hug  the  hidden  form.  "  I  did  not 
expect  you  until  evening.  Any  news  V"  said 
he,  rubbing  his  hands  together  briskly,  and 
drawing  a  chair  for  her  toward  the  fire. 

"  Why,  you've  been  away  so  long,  doctor, 
I  thouglit  I'd  drop  in  as  soon  as  I  could,  when 
I  heerd  you  was  buck.  We've  been  busy  at 
the  Home  lately,  and  as  1  had  a  chance,  I 
thought  I'd  run  in.  My  !  but  it's  a  nast}'  day," 
said  the  lady,  deliberately  shaking  her  cloak, 
and  placing  it  on  the  back  of  her  chair. 

"My  visitation  was  much  longc^r  than  I 
expected  ;  I  always  have  so  numy  grumbling 
])a3tor3  to  satisfy,  so  much  petty  jealousy  to 
get  rid  of.  Confound  them,  tliey  are  the  most 
hard  to  please ;  and  then  there  are  so  many 
disputes  among  congregations,  that  one's  time 
is  greatly  taken  up.  Any  way,  I  wanted  to 
be  out  of  the  city  for  a  while,  though  one  or 
two  weeks  are  not  long  passing.  But  tell  mo, 
what's  the  news?  I've  been  expecting  Bross 
all  the  morning.  I  sent  him  a  line  last  eve- 
ning to  drop  in  to-day  on  his  way  to  the  office. 
I'm  better  i)]eased  to  see  you  any  way ;  Fanny 
— draw  closer  to  the  fire." 

"  Oh  !  them  clerks,  you  know,  doctor,  haven't 
always  their  own  time  at  command.  In  fact, 
neither  have  I,  juit  now;  but,  any  way,  I 
thought  I'd  call  and  tell  you  about  the  chil- 
dren." 

"  I'm  satisfied  enough  about  them,  as  long 
as  they  are  under  your  charge  ;  they  are  well 
enough,  I  sup^iose — you'll  see  to  that,  Fannj' ; 
but  what  of  their  good  mother?  the  same 
old  story,  I  expect." 

"Weil,  just  about  the  same,"  Said  Mrs. 
Pinkley,  with  a  careless  air. 


"  Ay.  'twill  be  so  to  the  end  of  the  chapter, 
and  I  wish  it  were  ended  long  ago ;  what  a 
curse  she  is,  to  be  sure !"  And  tlie  vennm  that 
glistt'ned  under  his  bushy  eyelu-ow,  as  lie 
glanced  meaningly  at  his  crmipanion,  brought 
the  least  smile  to  tlie  surface  of  the  n;d  face 
of  the  amiabhi  Mrs.  Pinkhfy. 

"  Things  may  soon  come  right,"  said  she, 
giving  a  little  cough.  "  Dr.  Marks  is  very  kind 
to  her  sonndiow — very  kind  ;  but  yet — ■  " 

"  But  yet — the  devil!"  said  the  doctor,  now 
rising  and  stamping  angrily  upon  the  hearth. 
"  I  told  him  more  than  a  dozen  times  I  want- 
ed no  mild  work  with  her  ;  what  is  nhv  good 
for?  wlmt  is  her  vile  lifein  me?  lie  knows 
what  I  want  well  enough.  Does  the  foul 
expect  me  to  commit  myself  to  pen,  ink,  and 
pap(!r?  You  must  see  to  this,  Fanny — you 
must  help  me.  If  Dr.  Marks  wishes  to  make 
his  patronized  Home,  his  famous  Mkuoii  de 
tSante,  more  popular  at  my  expense,  he  will 
find  his  mistake.  I  was  a  fool  to  send  her 
there ;  we  might  have  managed  better,  far  bet- 
ter here,  ourselves.  If  he  can't  serve  me,  oth- 
ers will.     I'll  see  to  this." 

"  Patience,  doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Pinkley, 
with  the  mildest  voice  possible.  "  Things, 
you  know,  can't  be  done  in  a  hurry,  even 
there.  Dr.  Marks  will  never  do  what  you 
want — never.  Take  care  how  you  approach 
him  on  a  matter  of  life  and  death  !  The  Home 
is  popular,  and  he  intends  to  keep  it  so.  You 
and  I  understand  each  other  ;  then  have  noth- 
ing to  say  to  Dr.  Marks  about  tJiat.  I  have  a 
great  charge  ;  he  trusts  me  with  many  of  his 
patients,  and  I  can  not  be  too  cautious  for  a 
while.  Whom  can  /trust  in  that  place  ?  I  can 
catch  staring  eyes  and  listening  ears  in  every 
corner  ;  better  take  time ;  better,  far  better, 
have  her  under  Marks  than  where  you  would 
send  her.  There  are  few  inq-uests  held  over 
his  dead  ;  no  suspicion,  no  detectives  on  the 
hunt,  no  line  and  cry  in  the  papers  ;  he  n  .v.- 
ages  all  that.     Come,  what  do  you  say  V" 

The  doctor's  face  grew  livid  ;  there  was 
stmiething  in  the  imperturbable  manner  of 
the  wonuvn  that  fairly  awed  him,  savage  as 
he  even  then  was.  He  looked. steadily  at  the 
fir(i  for  a  few  moments  without  opening  his 
lips.  Then,  laying  his  hand  afVcctinnately 
upon  the  lady's  shoulder,  he  said:  "  Y'es,  bet- 
ter take  time  ;  you're  right,  Fanny,  you're 
right.  I  am  too  rash  ;  I  will  leaver  tliis  busi- 
ness to  you  ;  but  when  I  think  of  what  I  have 
suffered  by  that  wretch,  I  only  wish  that  we 
had  another  Laud,  and  another  Star-Cluimber. 
— Well,  tell  me*  what  of  that  Hampstead  ruf- 
fian ;  have  you  heard  any  thing  ?" 

"Only  there's  been  such  a  precious  row 
among  the  Methodist  saints ;  brother  Baker, 
one  of  your  kind  friends,  has  exconmiuuicated 
brother  Capel,  and  Mrs.  Manncu-s's  household 
chaplain  has  left  for  parts  unknown  —  some 
say  for  Ireland." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  The  doctor  gave  a  loud 
sardonic  laugh,  and  again  rubbed  his  hands 
with  positive  delight.  "  The  infernal  hypo- 
crites !  I  did  hear  some  time  ago  that  Capel, 
an  Irish  apostle,  was  imported  for  the  special 
purpose  of  converting  that  fiend.  Convert 
him;  good  God!  To  send  a  smooth-faced 
milk-sop  to  convert  Manners  I     He'd  make 


'*    R 
.    11 


•[ 


146 


EXETER    HALL. 


1  '       i  , ;« 


lis       .| 


y 


perverts  of  a  dozen  such  emjity  fools,  of 
course,  with  the  assistance  of  his  virtuous 
daugliter."  There  was  a  scowl  on  the  doc- 
tor's face  whenever  it  was  turned  toward 
Ilampstead. 

"  You've  heerd,  I  suppose,  about  his  v.d 
wife ;  u  ^-nit  the  ravinpf  irothodist  s^ant/? 
T.honi  revivals  are  a  help  to  Dr.  I»lnrks." 

"Oh!  yes,"  said  the  doctor,  cliuckling; 
"  the  meek  Martin  knows  something  of  bed- 
lam now  as  well  as  his  neighbors ;  ha !  ha ! 
TLoy  tell  me  that  that  Jezebel  he  keeps  in 
the  house  with  him  only  wore  a  religious 
mask,  like  other  Methodists,  to  effect  her  pur- 
poses. Hannah,  I  think  they  call  her,  pro- 
iesb^ed  to  be  one  of  the  church  militant,  and 
her  simple  mistress  was  enraptured  with  her 
for  a  time,  until  she  found  out  which  way  the 
wind  blew  ;  no  wonder  she  had  her  brain 
turned.  But  tell  me,  Fanny,"  said  he,  sud- 
denly recollecting  and  looking  at  her  intent- 
ly, "how  can  the  Methodist  revivals  help 
l3r.  Marks ;  how,  tell  me '?"  He  seemed  anxious 
for  a  rei)ly. 

She  was  silent  a  moment  or  two,  as  if  pon- 
dering thoughtfully  upon  her  answer ;  she 
then  slowly  bent  over  and  whispered  some- 
thing in  his  ear. 

As  if  stnng  by  ;  \  adder,  he  sprang  from 
his  chaiv  and  stared  wildly  and  savagely  at 
the  Avoman  before  him.  But  she  never  quailed 
like  the  poor  creature  he  had  so  often  abused  ; 
she  n^turned  his  gaze  as  calmly  as  if  some 
pleasing  notion  were  then  passing  through 
her  brain. 

"  God  of  heaven  !"  exc'taimed  he  at  last ; 
"is  it  possible 'i!"  He- coaid  only  then  utter 
these  i)a9t  ionate  words. 

"  Jui.4  as  I  te'l  you  ;  slie  is  there,  she  is  with 
us  at  the  Home,  as  comfortable  as  heart  could 
wish."  And  Mrs,  Pinkley's  little  smile  was 
again  making  its  appearance,  as  if  she  had 
communicated  the  most  agreeable  informa- 
tion. 

"  H'  avens  and  earth !  the  fellow  must  be 
mad — ravij^.g  mad,"  roared  the  doctor,  in  a 
perfect  fury.  "  Gracious  Saviour ! — well,  may 
the  eternal — " 

"  Oh !  (ie,  fie  1"  quickly  interrupted  Mrs.  Pink- 
Icy,  and  laying  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder, 
"  Don't  swear,  doctor,  don't  swear,  even  in  my 
presence  ;  'lisn't  worth  your  while  ;  tut,  tut,  'tis 
but  a  trifle."  And  she  met  his  angry  eye  with 
the  most  provoking  amiability. 

"  Let  me  go,  woman,  let  me  go,"  said  he,  step- 
ping back,  pale  and  wild  with  rage.  "  Did 
you  come  here  only  to  bring  me  this  damned 
information?  Did  you  come  here  to  bid  mo 
curse  you,  and  liim,  and  evi'ry  body  ?  Did 
you  come  lo  huriy  me  on  faster  and  faster  to 
misery?  Ilave  I  not  been  harassed  enough 
with  that  livin  '  devil  which  you  will  keep 
alive  ?  Are  you  m  league  with  that  fool,  that 
imbecile,  that  kiiavo,  to  say  that  you  can  re- 
main with  him  after  he  has  almost  betrayed 
mo  by  accepting  as  a  patient  the  very  wife 
of  my  greatest  and  most  dangerous  enemy, 
Martin  Manners  ?  Just  think  of  his  demented 
Methodist  wife  raving  her  unmeaning  pvay  ts 
alongside  of  mine  ;  just  think  of  tlie  same 
treacherous,  incorrigible  inlidel  walking  in 
and  out  of  that  place  daily,  and  then  uiukiug 


his  grand  discovery.    Did  you  come  liere,  like 
a  Job's  comforter,  to  tell  mo  of  this  ?" 

She  did  not  even  then  condescend  a  reply ; 
slie  seemed  like  a  physiologist  in  a  study 
over  some  inferior  animal ;  she  watched  the 
expression  of  his  face  and  eye,  and  then 
glanced  at  his  nervous,  twitching  fingers,  as  if 
she  expected  to  see  him  suddenly  grasp  some- 
thing and  tear  it  to  pieces. 

"  I  came  hero  partly  for  that  purpase,  and 
if  I  didn't  tell  you,  how  could  you  find  it  out, 
eh?  You  might  go  in  and  out  there  every 
hour  of  the  day  and  be  none  the  wiser.  If  I 
did  not  stay  with  Dr.  Marks,  either  as  a  day 
or  night  attendant,  he  might  be  inclined  to 
fancy  your  good  wife  quite  restored,  and 
within  less  than  a  month  she  miglit  walk 
out,  sensible  of  her  own  wrongs  and  armed 
with  the  law.  How  would  that  please  you, 
doctor  ?"  said  she,  still  studying  every 
rough  ftiature.  "  You  are  a  great  man  in  tlie 
pulpit ;  you  have  great  infiuenco  in  the 
General  Assembly ;  but,  lame  !  what  a  simile- 
ton  I  have  foun'l  you — a  perfect  child  in  some 
things— a  great  big  buzzing  fiy,  that  Mould 
be  entanglec^  in  many  a  skillful  web  if  I  did 
not  put  in  my  finger  and  take  you  out." 
When  saying  this,  she  gently  placed  her  fore- 
finger within  the  angle  of  the  wall,  as  if  in 
the  act  of  rescuing  a  veritable  blue-bottle. 

"  This,"  continued  she  "  has  been  so  for 
years  ;  you  overrate  your  influence  with  many. 
Dr.  Marks  won't  be  caught ;  he  won't  leave 
himself  in  your  power,  or  in  mine,  or  in  the 
power  of  any  body  else.  As  you  desired  it,  he 
allows  me  to  fittend  upon  your  wife  ;  of  course, 
I  make  my  daily  report,  and  he  believes  she 
is  a  little  crazy — just  a  little  only — so  little, 
that  she  would  be  out,  yes,  out,  before  now  if  it 
hadn't  been  for — now,  who  do  you  think? 
And  you  would  curse  me  for  serving  you  this 
way,  would  you  ?" 

The  cool,  collected  Mrs.  Pinkley  moved  back 
and  surveyed  him  with  a  feeling  akin  to  scorn, 
as  he  kejjt  demurely  near  the  window,  frown- 
ing out  at  the  massive  black  clouds  away  in 
the  distance. 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  again  eaid,  "  that  Dr. 
Marks  would  refuse  patients  merely  to  pier  :<e 
your  whim?  Ho  wants  money  as  well  at 
others,  and  he  couldn't  aflbrd  it.  There  may 
be  fifty  patients  in  together,  and  not  one  know 
.the  other;  and  fifty  different  fatbers,  or  mo- 
thers, or  husbands  may  call  to  visit,  and  not 
find  out  that  their  next  door  neighbor  was 
there  under  treatment,  I  have  been  there  now 
for  some  time,  and  as  yet  don't  hardly  know 
who's  who  ;  I  have  tried  to  find  out  secrets  in 
that  place,  but,  sharp  as  I  think  I  am,  1  often  get 
completely  foiled ;  I  told  you  there  were  eyes 
and  «iar8  all  around." 

"  Then  how  did  you  learn  that  Mrs.  Man- 
ners was  one  of  the  ornaments  of  the  institu 
tion  ;  yon  did  not  know  her  before ;  perhaps 
you  are  so  fortunate  as  to  have  control  of  the  re- 
ligious dei)artment ;  perhaps  Marks  has  great 
faith  in  your  prayers?"  said  Doctor  Buster  sar- 
castically. 

"  I  knew  that  she  was  there,  because  I  saw 
her  liusband  call  c^n  more  than  one  occasion, 
and  I  soon  found  out  his  errand." 

"  Then  ho   found    out  you ;  no  doubt  Jio 


EXETER    HALL. 


14T 


ere,  like 

!V  replj' ; 
a  study 
jlied  the 
id  then 
era,  as  if 
sp  some- 

lose,  and 
d  it  out, 
re  every 
or.  If  I 
a3  a  day 
jlined  to 
red,  and 
lit  walk 
d  armed 
jase  you, 
rr  every 
an  in  tlie 
in  the 
a  simide- 
l  in  some 
at  would 
J  if  I  did 

roVL   out." 

her  fore- 
,  as  if  in 

lOttlo. 

[»n  so  for 
ith  many, 
on't  leave 
or  in  the 
irt'd  it,  he 
of  course, 
ieves  she 
-so  little, 
)  now  if  it 
u  think  *( 
',  you  this 

t)ved  back 
to  scorn, 

w,  frown- 
away  in 

'  that  Dr. 

to  plef;'e 
well   a» 

lero  may 
one  know 
rs,  or  nio- 

,  and  not 

ibor  Avas 
there  now 
dly  know 

s(!crcts  in 
often  get 
were  eye« 

Mrs.  Man- 
16  institu 
;  perhaps 
of  the  re- 
has  great 
Jueter  sar- 

■luso  I  saw 
occasion, 

doubt  J»o 


quickly  ascertained  the  full  vain"  of  your  in- 
dispensable services,  in  case  his  wife  should 
want  consolation,"  sharply  retorted  the  doc- 
tor. 

"  There  again  you're  mistaken ;  he  Jias 
never  laid  eyes  on  me  since  I  managed  to 
bring  you  and  him  together  at  Tottenham 
Court  road ;  you  don't  forget  that  I  put  you 
in  possession  of  his  letter  to  your  wife  V 

"  I  remember." 

"  Well,  it's  a  wonder  you  do.  I  am  not  so 
simple  as  to  let  him  recognize  me  since  that. 
I  liave  watched  his  coming,  and  kept  clear  of 
him.  What  if  you  were  in  my  place?  Good 
Lord!  what  a  moss  you'd  make  of  it.  I'll 
take  care  of  Martin  Maunors.  You  imluced 
me  to  enter  Dr.  Marks's  service  ;  if  I  hsave,  so 
will  your  wife.  Then  you  may  go,  for  you 
will  be  undone." 

It  is  said  that  certain  powerful  and  raven- 
ous beasts  have  often  been  controlled  by  weak 
and  insigaiticant  animals.  Tlie  lion  may 
entertain  a  partiality  for  a  poodle  dog,  antl 
indulge  its  gambols,  and  ho  may  sutler  his 
flowing  mane  to  bo  pulled  and  tugged  at 
with  impunity.  Whatever  t\w  nature  of  Mrs. 
Pinkley's  influence  over  the  doctor  might  be, 
it  was  evident  that  she,  as  th  3  wealver  vessel, 
had  almost  absolute  rule  ;  he  submitted  to  her 
when  it  might  be  dangerous  in  a  measure  for 
any  one  else  to  api)ioach  him  ;  and  when  his 
temper  at  times  grew  savage,  ehe  had  only  to 
speak,  or  rebuke,  or  threaten  in  her  own  way, 
and  he  became  an  docile  as  a  child. 

"  Fanny,"  said  the  doctor  now,  in  his  bland 
est  manner,  "  I  sometimes  think  I'm  mad ;  I 
must  be  nearly  so  to  speak  to  you  as  I  have. 
But  I  was  startled  by  what  you  told  me  —  it 
was  80  unexpected,  so  cursedly  provoking ; 
but  it  is  no  fault  of  yours,  I  see  that.  It  is 
unfortunate  that  Marks  took  sucli  a  patient ; 
wo  miist,  however,  make  the  b^•^  of  it;  but 
you  must  stay  there  now,  you  must  b(?  for  the 
future  as  her  shadow.  It  js  obvious  that  I 
can  not  visit  that  place,  it  might  be  fatal  to 
our  plan ;  but  Manners  will  go,  and  so  will 
his  daughter;  you  must  now  catch  every 
word,  see  every  motion — watch  him,  watch  her, 
watch  every  body." 

"  Now  you  are  more  reasonubl(%"  said  the 
lady,  in  a  complimentary  tone  ;  "  I  knew  that 
wo  should  have  a  little  storm,  that  you  would 
bluster  awhile,  it  was  only  bluster  alter  all. 
It  is  now  over,  and  we  must  look  at  the  busi- 
ness quietly  and  ousid.r  what  is  biv-it  t;)  be 
done."  They  were  again  seated  before  the 
fire— -Mrs.  Pinkley  as  if  pertectly  at  hort  ,e,  and 
the  doctor  was  tamed  down  to  the  stan- 
dard or  quality  of  a  rational  being. 

"  Fanny,  I  know  how  diH'ply  I  am  indebted 
to  you,  I  can  never  forget  that.  I  know  how 
faithfully  you  have  servc^l  me  in  times  i)ast ; 
I  know  what  you  have  risked  for  me,  and  how 
I«)werle8s  I  might  often  have  been  without 
your  ready  aid ;  and  hear  me.  Fan,"  said  ho, 
drawing  closer  to  her,  "  I  know  my  proiin^e  to 
you,  I  remember  it  well,  and,  by  heavens! 
just  as  soon  as  I  am  at  liberty— ay,  the  very 
day  I  am  made  a  widower,  that  promise  shall 
be  renewed  and  carried  out  in  due  time." 

Whether  it  wastht?  gentle  ,)ath— guntle,  of 
course,  on  such  au  c>cciiaio!i — that  the  doctor 


then  swore,  or  the  unnatural  tenderness  that 
seemed  to  wander  iibout  his  hard  features, 
like  a  lost  sunbeam  in  a  desert,  t'lat  made  the 
amiable  Mrs.  Pinkley  blush  a  deeper  pink, 
she  did  really  blush ;  it  came  to  that,  and 
then  bashfully  as  it  were  raising  her  hand  to 
shade  her  eyes  from  his  ogre-like  glances,  she 
looked  modestly  down  at  the  hearth,  as  if 
overcome  by  a  very  peculiar  emotion. 

"  Well,  doctor,"  said  she,  with  eyes  still  bent 
down  ind  emphasizing  her  words,  "  I  did 
want  to  hear  that  promise  again,  I  di<l.  I 
...ometimes  have  been  foolish  enou;?h  to  think 
that  you  might  forget  me  for  some  favored 
one  of  the  rich,  proud,  pious  ladies  that 
swarm  around  you.  I  have  made  sacrifices 
for  you ;  for  your  sake  I  got  rid  of  Pinkley 
and  became  a  widow  ;  for  you  I  have  re- 
mained so,  and  am  willing  to  wait.  Ay," 
said  she,  lowering  her  voice  almost  to  a  whis- 
per, and  regarding  him  with  singular  interest, 
"  you  know  what  I  have  done  and  am  still 
willing  to  do  to  join  our  fate.  Yes,  I  wanted 
that  promise  renewed.  I  wanted  your  most 
sacreil  word — even  your  -oath,  your  solemn 
oath." 

"  You  shall  have  my  word,  or  my  oath, 
or  any  thing  else  you  desire.  Have  I  not 
trusted  all  to  you,  and  put  myself  m  your 
power,  as  you  have  placed  yourself  in  mine  'I 
Can  you  doubt  ?  Our  interests  are  one — not 
my  interest  alone,  but  my  inclination  is  to- 
ward you.  Never  think  of  the  brainless  bu^ 
tertlies  that  flutter  around  your  gospel  lumi- 
naries.  I  kno\v  their  value,  the  full  value  of 
such  very  pious  ladies,  and  I  know  yours. 
You  have  ability,  Fan  ;  tact,  shrewdness,  cau- 
tion, courage — true  courage  ;  that's  the  (juali- 
ty!  never  think  again  of  those  moths.  1  tell 
you  I  have  promised,  and  will  perform.  I  must 
do  so ;  I  can  not  do  without  you.  You  are  my 
legal  adviser,  Fan  ;  my  faithful  pilot  in  every 
storm,  but  I  am  still  in  bonds ;  when,  when 
shall  I  be  free  V" 

"  That's  an  important  qu(>stion  to  answer ;  it 
won't  do  to  be  in  too  great  a  hurry.  I  am,  I 
know  I  am,  more  anxious  than  you,  but  I  am 
more  cautious.  Oh !  how  1  \v  ish  this  alt'air 
was  over !  Pinkley's  was  bad  enough ;  will  this 
be  worse  V  There  are  some  imps  in  the  H<jfH0 
that  I  must  get  rid  of.  I  have  spoken  to 
Marks  about  a  change,  and  have  given  him , 
some  plausible  reasons.  I  think  he  is  willing ; 
we  have  already  engaged  a  new  keeper,  and 
if  I  can  only  get  a  few  other  total  strangers  in 
place  of  some  of  our  present  inquisitive  atten- 
dants, I  shall,  I  think,  be  able  to  avoid  all  sus- 
piciim." 

"  That's  the  point.  Fan ;  beware  of  tliat 
rock  !" 

"  Your  wife  is  cautious  with  me  ;  I  made  up 
a  story  to  explain  about  how  that  letter  from 
Manners  lyot  into  your  hands,  still  she  is  cau- 
tious. Sue  has,  I  am  sure,  one  confident ;  that 
I  will  get  rid  of,  and  then — " 

There  was  a  i)auso.  What  a  terrible  reve- 
lation might  have  been  made  by  the  full,  free 
completion  of  the  sentence.  Even  an  un- 
wonted gravity  settled  upon  the  doctor's  face- 
not  in  dread  of  the  commission  of  actual  crime, 
but  of  the  terrible  dtitection  which,  inspiN'  of 
all,  might  possibly  follow.    lie  thought  of  this, 


:Ji' 


pi! 


W  ' 


148 


EXETER   HALL. 


fi' 


'    4 


i 


?.«'  J- 


¥f^'i 


for  ho  know  tlie  determination  of  her  who  had 
just  spoken. 

"But  tell  me,  doctor,"  she  continued,  "we 
are  now,  I  may  say,  talking  practically  ;  sup- 
posing every  thing  all  over  as  you  could  de- 
sire ;  you  say  that  you  would  not  stay  here 
very  long  aft i  r  ward  ;  so  far,  so  good.  But  wliat 
are  your  ir  ans?  You  have  got  through  a 
lot  of  hard  cash,  sure  enough.  You  are  al- 
ways complaining  of  a  want  of  money.  All 
I  have  saved  ip  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  or 
sixty  pounds — a  great  deal  to  me,  but,  good- 
ne.ss!  only  a  mere  tritlc  to  you.  Now,  what 
are  your  means  ?  Then  there's  the  children, 
think  of  that." 

"  Now,  you  are  the  simpleton.  Whj',  did 
you  for  a  moment  think  that  I  have  been  for- 
getting the  main  point  ?  Not  I  ;  I  never  forget 
that.  You  know  I  lost  heavily  by  that  stock 
I  purchased,  but  that  will  be  soon  made  up. 
I  have  already  got  a  full  score  of  your  pious 
butterflies  at  work  for  me.  I  can  always  de- 
pend upon  them.  They  believe  I  have  rol)bed 
myself  to  give  to  the  poor ;  let  them  think  so. 
Of  course,  I  have  bad  to  throw  away  a  good 
deal  that  way  for  appearance'  sake.  I  have, 
however,  told  my  silken  saints  this  time,  in 
plain  English,  that  I  wanted  no  presents — 
neither  gilt-edged  books,  nor  shining  plate, 
nor  baubles  of  any  kind  ;  that  cash,  hard  casli, 
was  necessary  for  certain  pious  purposes  ;  and 
already  there  have  been  a  number  of  tea- 
me(.'ting3,  and  bazaars  and  fairs  are  still  in 
progress — every  tiling  in  full  blast.  I  have 
managed  to  start  a  nice  little  rivalry,  and 
cash  iciU  come  in  this  time." 

The  fair  Mrs.Pinkley  seemed  very  much  in- 
tenisted  in  these  details,  and  her  reverend 
gallant  rose  greatly  in  her  estimation  ;  she  ad- 
mired him  in  the  character  of  such  a  deluder, 

"  Then  I  can  get  Wilkins,  the  banker,  one 
of  our  church,  to  discount  a  note  for  any 
amount.  I  have  managed  to  be  clear  on  his 
books  for  some  time,  and  I  can  arrange  to 
take  a  cool  thousand  there  ;  I  will  see  about 
that  to-day,  and,  when  I  am  gone,  the  Rev. 
Andrew  Campbell,  my  indorser,  can  aft'ord  to 
lose  it.  He  has,  to  my  knowledge,  nearly 
double  that  amount  to  his  credit  ;  and  he  may 
thank  mt;  for  his  present  good  position.  I  in- 
tend to  make  him  grateful." 

"  Well,  doctor,"  said  the  lady,  in  the  prettiest 
manner  she  coul;l  assume,  "  I  always  heerd 
among  our  cliurch  members  that  you  were 
good  at  finance,  as  you  call  it ;  popular  minis- 
ters— indeed,  preachers  of  all  kinds — have  the 
real  knack  of  getting  money — raising  tlie 
wind,  as  they  say— filthy  lucre !  he !  he  !  he  1" 

"  That's  not  all.  Fan,"  said  the  doctor,  flat- 
tered by  her  approval ;  "  see  here !  this  is  a 
subscription-list  for  ihe  erection  of  a  n(!w 
church  near  Ilighgate  ;  just  look !  one,  two, 
three  of  them  down  for  a  thousand  jjounds 
each,  and  five  others  for  five  liundred  a  i)lece. 
Now,  the  contract  is  not  to  be  let  until  five 
thousand  of  this  sum  is  placed  in  my  hands. 
Yea,  in  mine,  as  treasurer  for  the  trustees." 
Anci  his  fist  closed  tiglitly  at  the  pleasant  idea. 

"  Now,  if  I  eliould  be,  say,  so  unfortunate  as 
to  lose  the  money,  or  have  it  stolen — a  thing, 
you  know,  of  common  occurrence — and  if  you 
should  happen  to  find  it — a  thing  etinally  pos- 


sible— I  can,  of  course,  lament  the  loss  ;  but, 
bless  your  heart,  it  won't  be  felt.  What's  a 
thousand  or  ten  thousand  to  some  of  them  ? 
Put  on  a  litile  pressure,  and  they  will  come 
down  again  ;  but  we  need  not  wait  for  the  re- 
sult. Will  that  answer.  Fan  Y'  said  he,  gent- 
ly laying  his  hand  in  hers. 

Good  Mrs.  Pinkley  counted  over  the  strong- 
names  on  the  list  which  the  doctor  had  taken 
from  a  small  drawer  ;  and,  having  after  a  lit- 
tle thne  succeeded  in  adding  up  the  three  for 
a  thousand  and  the  five  for  five  hundred,  she 
clutched  the  paper  as  if  she  then  and  there 
had  hold  of  the  princely  amount  wliich  the  doc- 
tor partly  predicted  she  might  be  so  lucky  as 
to  stumble  over  out  of  the  sum  total. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  she,  highly  delighted  ; 
"  that  will  be  the  very  thinnf.  Prime !  excel- 
lent !  if  it's  only  managed  well.  Let  that  be 
your  part — mine,  I  fear,  will  not  be  so  easy. 
Then  there's  the  children — we  may  have 
trouble  with  them  ;  there  will  be  trouble  any 
way  with  that  boy,  he'll  be  as  stiff  and  as 
positive  as  ever  his  mother  was.  You  must 
look  after  him  in  time;  he  has  strange  no- 
tions.') 

"  The  children  will  be  a  nuisance — well,  a 
difficulty,"  said  he,  correcting  himself ;  "but 
we  may  be  able  to  make  some  arrangement ; 
there's  time  enough,  however,  for  that.  Frank 
is  getting  positive,  is  he  ?  he  shall  never  be 
like  his  mother,  if  I  can  help  it.  I'd  rather 
see  him  dead  and  in  his  grave  first.  I'll  reg- 
ulate him,  don't  be  afraid  of  that.  How  glad 
I  am  now  that  you  called.  Fan — you  do  manage 
things  so  well.  Yet,  one  more,  just  one  more 
cautious  act,  and  you  know  the  rest ;  one 
more,  and  I  sl^all  fulfill  that  promise." 

Just  then  a  smart  rap  was  heard  at  the 
street  door.  "  This  is  Bross,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  I  shall  hear  something  now  about  Manners." 
And  then,  having  promised  to  call  and  see  hei 
and  the  children  as  soon  as  possible,  he  ten- 
derly pressed  hei;  hand  as  she  retired  by  the 
private  entrance.  Quickly  arranging  his  hair 
by  running  it  back  through  his  fingern,  ho 
then  approached  the  door,  and,  wearing  his 
most  benevolent  t\nd  sanctimonious  cxi)res 
sion,  he  meekly  smiled  as  he  received  his  ex 
pected  visitor. 


i 


CHAPTER   XXX. 


Mr.  Tno>r.\s  Buoss  was  the  young  gentle- 
man with  extc^nsivo  shirt-collar,  who  called 
at  llampstead  Cottage  to  deliver  a  letttu",  and 
who,  at  tlui  time,  hai)pened  to  overhear  Mrs. 
Mannors,  under  the  inthuMice  of  her  hallucina- 
ti(m,  reproach  her  husband  for  his  unfaithful- 
ness ;  and  tliis  incident  he,  as  a  moral  man 
and  good  Christian,  immediately  construiil 
into  its  worst  sense,  and,  with  slight  additions, 
retailed  it  in  his  (>wn  way  wheie  he  thought 
the  story  would  be  most  acceptable. 

Mr.  Bross  was  a  junior  clerk  in  the  office  of 
Vizard  &  Coke,  Gray's  Inn;  in  his  own 
estimation,  rather  clever,  but  his  fellow- 
students  considered  l»im  a  parasite,  a  syco- 
phant, any  thing  to  ingratiate  liiniself  with 
his  employers,  or  with  any  <me  else  wuom  ho 
fancied  had  iufluenco.    lie  was  a  strict  Prcft- 


loss ;  but, 
What's  a 
of  them  ? 
will  como 
for  the  re- 
L  he,  geut- 

;he  strong- 
had  taken 
it'tcr  a  lit- 
3  three  for 
idred,  she 
and  there 
^\i  the  doc- 
0  lucky  as 
1. 

ielighted ; 
ne!  excel- 
et  that  be 
e  so  easy, 
nay  have 
ouble  any 
iff  and  as 
You  must 
;range  no- 

e — well,  a 
lelf;  "but 
ngement ; 
it.    Frank 

never  be 
I'd  rather 
I'll  reg- 
no w  glad 
lo  manage 
;  one  more 

rest ;  one 
e." 

rd  at  the 
ho  doctor. 
Vlannors.' ' 
nd  see  hci 

',  he  ten- 

d  by  tho 
g  his  Iniir 
ingers,  ho 

aring  his 
IS  exprt'S 
3d  his  ex 


g  gentle- 
ho  called 
ettiU",  and 
lear  Mrs. 
lalluriniv 
nl'aitht'iil- 
oral  man 
construed 
addition;^, 
J  thought 

0  of  lice  of 
lis  own 
s  fellow- 
a  syco- 
ishU"  with 
wuoni  ho 
rict  Pre»- 


EXETER    HALL. 


149 


byterian,  a  member  of  the  Rev.  Andrew 
Campbell's  c'  urch,  and  he  distributed  tracts 
after  breakfast  on  Sundays  until  church  time. 

He  had  a  class  in  the  Sabbath-school,  and 
was  particularly  obsequious  to  the  lady  teach- 
ers, who  found  an  agreeable  pastime  in  co- 
operating with  such  prepossessing  young  gen- 
tlemen for  the  illumination  of  younger  Chris- 
tians. 

The  ladies  of  the  congregation  he,  of  course, 
knew  esteemed  Doctor  Buster  very  highly; 
he  liad  heard  them  speak  of  his  great  talents 
and  exalted  character,  and  Mr.  Bross  was  not 
slow  to  insinuate  himself  into  the  good  graces 
of  the  moderator ;  and  tho '  doctor  found  in 
the  very  moral  young  man  a  very  convenient 
tool  or  agent. 

It  was  tho  low,  stumpy  form  of  Mr.  Bross 
that  entered  the  study  of  Doctor  Buster  after 
Mrs.  Pinkley's  retreat ;  he  was  greeted  by  the 
genial  smile  of  that  distinguished  pillar  of 
the  church. 

"  Ah !  my  very  dear  young  friend,  I  am 
most  happy  to  see  you ;  I  was  beginning  to 
fear  that  you  had  not  received  my  note.  I 
trust  I  have  not  put  you  to  much  inconve- 
nience by  requesting  you  to  call  so  early  to- 
day ;  I  like  to  see  all  my  friends  when  I  return 
to  the  city." 

Mr.  Bross  leered  with  his  prominent  eyes  at 
tho  doctor  ;  ho  was  delighted  at  the  complai- 
sance of  tho  great  man  before  him,  and 
paused  a  moment  in  grateful  admiration  ere 
he  could  find  a  reply. 

"  Not  the  least,  doctor,  not  the  least ;  there 
could  be  no  inconvenience.  O  my !  not  at 
all,  sir — 'tis  such  a  privilege  to  be  here  ;  I 
would  have  called  sooner,  but  it  so  happened 
that  just  as  I  was  about  to  leave  the  office 
last  evening,  your  very  respected  friend  Man- 
ners walktid  in,  and  I  thought  I  could  make 
my  visit  more  interesting  by  waiting  a  little 
longer." 

"  lie  did,  indeed !  how  very  opportune  !  pray 
bo  seat(Kl,  my  dear  friend.  Ah  !  pardon  me, 
how  is  your  excellent  mother?  You  see," 
said  the  doctor,  ])iously  raising  his  eyes,  "  what 
we  sometimes  might  only  consider  a  fortu- 
nate occurrence  is  often,  in  reality,  an  act  of 
Providence — tho  mysterious  hand  guiding  our 
destinies,  the  luminous  finger  ])()inting  out 
tho  hidden  danger,  tho  vast  iateUigence  gra- 
ciously counteracting  evil  desiirns.  Ah  !  my 
friend,  this  has  been  my  ex])erii'nce ;  I  can 
not  be  too  thankful.  Undeserving  as  I  am, 
even,  you  have  been  an  agent  in  the  hand  of 
tho  Almighty  for  my  benefit." 

The  eyes  of  the  delighted  Bross  fairly  glis- 
tened to  hear  such  words  from  the  niouth  of 
such  a  chosen  vessel.  The  bare  idtni  of  hav 
ing  been  acknowledged  as  tho  Sidected  instru- 
ment to  servo  this  meek,  exemplary  pastor 
was  almost  overwhelming!  What  would  he 
not  havo  then  given  to  be  able  to  wcu^p  a  lit- 
tle gratitude  for  so  much  condescension? 

"  Yes,  my  dear  friend,  you  have  proved  an 
unexpected  aid  to  me  with  regar<l  to  the  evil 
d(^signs  of  that  bad  man.  I  have  already 
made  you  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  his 
calmnni(!9,  of  his  nnholy  attacks  against  me 
yet  I  caro  not  for  myself,  llo  is,  as  you  are 
awaro,  an  unboliovor  in  our  diviuo  faith ;  and, 


aa  an  humble  instrument  in  upholding  the 
truth  of  God,  I  have  had  to  reply  to  the 
specious  and  dangerous  reasoning  which  he 
has  circulated  through  the  debased  columns  of 
tho  Westminster  Review  against  the  Scrip- 
tures, I  have  had  to  neiitralize  the  poisonous 
error  with  which  he  had  infected  many  feeble 
minds,  and  for  i,uls,  as  well  as  for  other  simi- 
lar reasons,  I  have  incurred  his  hatred.  Since 
my  unfortunate  domestic  affliction,  his  base 
in.sin nations  and  intermeddling  have  been  to 
me  a  painful  persecution.  But  the  ministers 
of  God  should  esteem  it  a  privilege  to  suffer 
in  his  cause.  '  Our  light  affliction,  which  is 
but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far  more 
exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory.'  The 
Lord  will,  I  humbly  trust,  counteract  the  inten- 
tions of  this  wicked  person." 

After  this  delivery,  the  dcctor  was  evidently 
much  affected,  and  when  he  stooped  down  to 
apply  his  handkerchief,  the  feelings  of  the 
sympathizing  clerk  were  overcome,  and  in  a 
similar  manner  he  tried  to  hide  the  tears 
which  it  is  to  be  presumed  filled  his  eyes  on 
the  occasion. 

"  He  will — he  will,  no  doubt,  reverend  sir," 
said  Bross  in  a  faltering  voice.  "  I  am  aware 
of  all  that  that  evil-disposed  man  has  done 
against  you.  I  cau  assure  you,  nothing  will 
give  me  greater  satisfaction  than  to  be  of  the 
slighte.st  service  to  you  in  any  way.  I  am 
but  a  humble  individual,  sir;  but  if  my  very 
humble  services  can  be  of  tho  slightest  assist- 
ance, pray  do,  sir,  command  me ;  it  will  be 
such  a  pleasure  to  obey." 

"  Ah  !"  said  the  doctor, 
"  what  great  faithfulness 
discover  where  there  is 
Then,  after  a  well-regulated  pause,  he  con- 
tinued :  "  lie  calls  at  your  office  very  often 
then,  you  say ;  ho  must  be  rather  litigious? 
no  doubt  of  it." 

"  Yes.  sir,  ho  calls  occasionally.  We  do  his 
business — at  least  the  respected  firm  of  Vixard 
&  Coke  have  the  management  of  whatever 
matters  recpiire  legal  attention.  We  conduct 
his  legal  affairs  when  he  has  any  ;  they  can't 
be  much,  for  we  never  had  a  case  of  his  in 
court ;  yet  he  calls,  it  must  be  for  advice." 

"  What  business  can  he  then  possibly  have 
to  ret] ui re  attention  in  your  office?  what  ad- 
vice can  he  require  if  ho  is  neither  plaintiff 
nor  defendant?  Can  you  find  out?  I  am 
anxious  to  know,  and  I  will  explain  tho  rea- 
son some  other  time." 

"  Explain !  Of  course  you  need  explain 
nothing  to  me,  sir ;  I  shall  only  be  too  happy 
to  b(*  of  any — '' 

"  Never  mind,  never  mind,  my  dear  friend  ; 
I  am  cpiite  aware  of  all  that ;  just  find  out 
his  aim,  ho  must  have  some  sinister  motive 
in  view  ;  ho  is  one  whom  wo  must  distrust." 

"  Well,  it  is  so  difficult  to  find  out  what  he 
is  after.  He  is  generally  in  close  consultation 
with  Mr.  Vizard,  all  that  is,  of  course,  lost  to 
us  ;  he  must  have  a  design — indeed,  I  suspect 
him  already.  You  remember  the  conversa- 
tion whi(di  I  told  you  I  overheard  between 
him  and  his  wife  ?" 

"  Ah!  yes — that  where  she  accused  him  of 
unfaithfulness.  Poor  woman !  Lot  me  see, 
I  think  you  said  tho  maid,  or  rather  his  fa- 


as  if  soliloquizing, 
and  amiability  we 
least    pretension." 


m 

'  m 


'•>»; 


150 


EXETER    HALL. 


f 


nil,' 


1?F*-- 


vorite,  was  piosent  at  llio  time,"  s^oke  the 
doctor  suggestively. 

"  There  was  another  person — a  woman,  a 
female,  a  favorite — no  doubt  just  what  you 
say,"  stammered  the  compliant  clerk. 

'■  Alas !  she  was  the  certain  cause  of  all  the 
misery  that  has  since  fallen  upon  his  unhappy 
wife.  But  what  better  could  be  expected? 
What  faithfulness,  or  honor,  or  principle,  or 
morality  could  follow  from  one  who  would 
ignore  religion  ?  The  tree  is  known  by  its 
fruit." 

"  Very  true  indeed,  sir.  What  faithfulness 
or  honor,  or  morality  could  follow  ?"  echoed 
the  correct  Mr.  Bross. 

"  Now  that  I  think  of  it,  perhaps  it  would 
be  well  that  you  should  clearly  remember 
what  took  place  at  that  time ;  it  may  be  of 
service  hereafter.  No  doubt  it  then  occurred 
to  you  that  the  trouble  was  caused  by  domes- 
tic jealousy,"  again  suggestetl  the  doctor. 

"  I  think  it  did,  sir ;  yes,  I  think  that  was 
my  impression— of  course  it  was.  You  are 
perfectly  right,  sir  ;  it  was  jealousy." 

"  Oh !  it  is  quit'^  apparent,  it  could  be  nothinj;' 
else.  And  you  have  no  idea  of  the  real  na- 
ture of  his  business  at  the  office  ?" 

"  I  can  not  say  for  certain  ;  I  often  take  an 
opportunity  of  going  into  the  private  room 
to  make  an  inquiry — this  is  a  great  liberty — 
and  I  once  overheard  Mr.  Vizard  say  some- 
thing as  to  the  law  regulating  the  confine- 
ment of  insane  persons." 

"  Insane  persons !  Ah!  I  see,"  said  the  doc- 
tor stoically.  Yet  the  sudden  pressure  on  his 
temples  at  the  moment  was  rather  oppressive  ; 
and  his  face  became  suddenly  flushed. 

Mr.  Bross  continued,  "  Lately,  I  had  reason 
to  believe  that  he  had  some  business  of  his 
own.  There  was,  I  think,  a  settlement,  or  will, 
or  instrument  drawn,  by  which  his  daughter 
was  to  be  benefited.  The  copy  of  this  I  have 
not  yet  seen — I  will  get  hold  of  it  if  possible; 
but  a  scrap  of  memoranda  which  I  saw  in 
the  waste-basket,  related  to  such  a  convey- 
ance." 

"  A  scrap  not  worth  keeping,  I  suppose  1" 
said  the  doctor  carelessly.  "The  matter, 
however,  as  to  lunatics  must  have  been  in  re- 
lation to  his  own  wife.  Mcthodistic  excite- 
ment and  jealousy,  and  the  misconduct  and 
immorality  of  her  husband,  all,  no  doubt,  com- 
bined to  overpower  her  weak  mind." 

"  Most  probably,  sir  ;  but  there  was  nothing 
on  the  piece  of  pajier  which  could  be  of  any 
advantage ;  I  looked  it  over  carefully.  Perhaps, 
though,  there  may  bo  something  in  this  ;  1 
saw  it  upon  one  of  the  office  chairs  after  they 
went  away."  And  Mr.  Bross  handed  the  doctor 
an  open  envelope. 

Two  small  pieces  of  paper  were  all  it  con- 
tained ;  one  was  written,  the  other  printed, 
but  even  these  were  sufficient  to  drive  the 
blood  into  the  doctor's  face  and  then  suddenly 
back  to  his  heart,  leaving  him  in  a  state  of 
pallor ;  and  though  he  tried  to  appear  very 
calm,  he  was  evidently  much  agitated. 
The  print  and  the  writing  took  but  a  minute 
to  read,  yet  like  some  powerful  spell,  or  as  but 
a  single  drop  of  a  potent  drug,  the  eflect  was 
sudden  and  stupefying.  On  one  piece  of 
paper   the   doctor  read,  in  his   ovvu   hand- 


writing, "A.  M.,  North  street,  near  Jewish 
Cemetery,"  and  the  other  was  an  advertise- 
ment cut  from  the  Times. — "  Wanted,  two  or 
three  steady  and  intelligent  persons,  suitable 
for  attendants  in  a  X)rivate  hospital ;  strangers 
to  the  city  preferred.  Address  Dr.  A.  M.,  1322 
North  street. 

For  the  time,  !^^r.  Bross  seemed  to  have  been 
entirely  forgotten.  The  eye  of  his  reverend 
friend  still  rested  upon  the  advertisement, 
then  it  glanced  at  the  writing,  and  then  there 
was  a  contraction  of  the  brow,  as  if  some  deep 
problem  required  the  most  powerful  concen- 
tration of  thought.  The  doctor  ha<l  never 
missed  the  memorandum  which  he  had  drop- 
ped, he  could  not  tell  where  ;  but  there  was 
his  own  writing,,  sure  enough,  and  how  this 
scrap  ever  got  into  the  hands  of  Martin  Man- 
ners was  the  mystery.  Then  the  connection 
which  had  evidently  been  established  between 
the  writing  and  the  advertisement  caused 
him  the  greatest  anxiety.  Through  the  small 
opening  already  made,  an  enemy  might  see  a 
great,  great  distance.  Were  his  plans  known  ? 
Were  his  schemes  detected  1  Was  he  already 
discovered,  and  the  hated  infidel  already  upon 
his  track  to  crush  and  expose  him  before 
the  world  ?  He  looked  half  bewildered  around 
the  room,  and  then  askance  with  tiger  eye 
even  at  Bross,  as  if  he  had  already  sus- 
pected him  of  being  an  emissary.  Suddenly 
collecting  himself,  he  assumed  his  blandest 
tone,  and  said  carelessly : 

"I  hardly  understand  the  meaning  of 
these  items ;  ihero  may  be  something  in 
them,  yet  scaiccly  of  any  conse(iuence.  Are 
you  sure  that  they  were  left  by  Mannors  1" 

"  Oh  !  yes,  sir,  quite  certain  ;  at  least,  either 
by  him  or  the  person  who  was  with  him — one 
or  the  other." 

"  Person  with  him  I  Was  there  any  one 
with  him  when  he  called  1" 

"  Indeed,  I  forgot  to  mention  that  there 
was  a  stranger — a  person  I  never  saw  before." 
And  Mr.  Bross  gave  the  best  description  he 
could  of  the  unknown  individual. 

With  all  his  caution,  the  doctor  could  not 
hide  his  uneasiness.  Who  this  new  actor  was 
that  had,  as  it  were,  just  entered  on  the  stage, 
or  the  part  he  was  to  perform,  created  much 
embarrassment.  There  was  an  alliance  or 
secret  combination  formed  which  disconcerted 
him  very  much,  and  every  attempt  nuul  now 
be  made  to  discover  the  nature  of  this  fresh 
source  of  danger.  However,  it  would  not  do 
to  appear  in  the  least  intimidated  ;  there  should 
be  no  evidence  of  weakness  or  wavering,  and 
the  doctor  for  the  time  simulated  the  greatest 
indiffi'rence. 

"  Well,  my  dear  friend,  I  feel  greatly  obliged 
to  you  for  your  kind  attention  to  my  interests. 
I  do  not,  of  course,  understand  to  what  these 
pajjcrs  refer;  however,  they  may,  perhaps 
guide  us  to  something.  But  if  you  can  iws- 
sibly  ascertain  who  this  other  person  is,  or 
where  he  resides,  or  what  business  there  can 
be  between  him  and  my  enemy,  it  may  bo 
serviceable.  It  is  jjrobable  that  tliis  envelope 
and  its  contents  were  left  behind,  :t  being  of 
no  service.  I  can  not  see  that  they  are  of  any 
conseqiuaire ;  any  way,  I  shall  keep  them  in 
my  possesgiou ;  insignificant  as  they  now  are, 


EXETER    HALL. 


ISl 


they 
time. 


may,  perhaps,  be    useful    at    another 


The  doctor  a$raln  thanked  Bross  most  gra- 
ciously. Ho  then  jjave  a  pious  turn  to  tlie  con- 
versation, and  fuelinj^^j-  commented  on  the 
great  refuge  of  the  Christian  in  troublous 
times.  What  was  this  world  but  tlie  vunify 
of  vanities — a  fleeting  show,  a  snare?  He 
spoke  of  the  glorious  privilege  of  Sabbath 
serNices  ;  he  urged  punctuality  at  the  weekly 
prayer-meeting  and  regular  attendance  at  the 
Sabbath-school.  Every  effort  sliould  be  made 
to  spread  a  knowledge  of  the  Lord  over  the 
whole  earth.  The  Ijeauty  of  holiness  was  a 
tlieme  upon  whicli  he  said  he  loved  to  dwell. 
Oh  !  how  it  made  his  heart  expand  in  love  to 
all.  What  reproacli  he  would  be  willing  to 
suffer  for  the  truth  f  Words  of  affection 
seemed  to  flow  from  the  lips  of  the  holy  man, 
and  from  the  manner  in  which  poor,  devoted 
Mr.  Bross  hung  his  head,  it  was  evident  that 
the  doctor's  pious  remarks  made  a  due  impres- 
sion. 

Time  was  fleeing  fast,  and  the  punctual 
Bross  hinted  the  necessity  of  returning  to  his 
post  ;  and  just  as  that  hopeful  young  Christian 
and  law-clerk  was  about  to  take  his  leave, 
the  doctor  drew  from  a  recess  a  bundle  of  as- 
sorted religious  tracts  and  handed  them  toliis 
young  disciple  for  distribution.  Here  was  a 
means  for  the  mo.st  unassuming  to  make  them- 
selves useful.  He  complimented  Bross  for 
tlio  diligence  he  had  already  shown,  and  urged 
him  to  continue  in  the  good  work.  Scattered 
here  and  there  among  the  careless  and  i)ro- 
fane,  these  little  leaves  might  cause  some  to 
pause  on  the  downward  road,  and  bring  reflec- 
tion to  many  a  careless  sinner ;  and  what  a 
gratification  it  would  be  for  one  to  know  that 
he  was  a  privileged  agent  in  «uch  a  work. 

Mr.  Bross  reverently  received  tht  orthodox 
package.  He  was  delighted  at  such  manifes- 
tations of  confidence  from  one  of  such  cstab- 
lislied  piety ;  he  stammered  many  promises ; 
and  took  his  departure,  asserting  his  deter- 
mination to  renew  his  exertions  in  flie  cause 
of  the  Lord — and  Doctor  Buster. 

The  day  continued  gloomy,  and  the  doctor 
Btood  at  the  window  for  some  time  and  va- 
cantly watched  the  retiring  form  of  Bross 
through  the  thick  mist.  The  morning,  so  far, 
had  been  unpropitious,  the  inoderator  felt 
strangely  uneasy  ;  every  visitor  as  yet  had 
brought'  him  but  ill  news — how  would  the 
day  end?  As  ho  still  looked  out,  he  clutched 
the  envelope,  and,  having  given  his  wandering 
conjectures  full  scope  for  some  minutes,  he 
again  read  the  writing  and  advertisement. 

"  Well,  what  a  cursed  fool  I  must  have  been 
to  let  this  out  of  my  hands !  How  the  devil 
did  Mannors  get  it— or  was  it  given  him  by 
another?  Well,  damn  them,  let  it  go !  what 
can  they  make  of  it  ?  notliing !  They  may  do 
tlieir  best,  Marks  and  Fan  will  be  able  for 
tliem.  But  stay,  she  has  not  yet  seen  these 
waifs  ;  this  has  wandered  back  to  me,"  said  he, 
looking  at  his  own  writing  ;  "  and  as  for  this 
'  advertisement,  I  must  show  it  to  Imr  at 
once.  No  doubt  she  will  bo  their  match — she 
never  fails." 

Having  thus  soliloquized,  the  doctor  again 
fortified  himself  with  an  iucreased  dose  of  his 


favorite  liqnor,  and,  muffling  himself  up  care- 
fully, left  the  lonely  house  to  make  a  few  calls, 
and  then  to  visit  Mrs.  Pinkley,  and  counsel 
with  her  as  his  chief  friend  and  adviser. 

When  Mr.  Bross  reached  tlie  office  of  liis 
employers,  he  was  immediately  dispatched 
with  a  message  to  Hampstead.  He  was  very 
much  pleased  at  this,  and  trusted  that  an  op- 
portunity might  offer  of  being  able  to  serve  hia 
reverend  patron,  Doctor  Buster.  On  his  arrival 
at  Heath  Cottage,  he  was  met  at  the  garden 
gate  by  Miss  Mannors,  and  admitted  into  the 
house  by  her  whom  he  then  thought  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  beings  on  which  his  eyes 
had  ever  rested.  Mr.  Mannors  was  absent,* 
but  was  expected  home  every  minute,  and  in 
the  mean  time  his  fair  daughter,  Mary,  kept 
his  visitor  in  conversation.  The  blushing, 
blundering  Bross  was  sadly  stricken,  and  for 
a  full  half-hour  made  the  most  desperate  and 
agonizing  efforts  to  appear  collected  and  in 
his  ordinary  senses ;  but  at  the  end  of  that 
time,  when  Mr.  Mannors  returned,  ho  could 
scarcely  make  himself  understood.  He  was 
almost  hopelessly  lost—::  victim  to  love  at 
first  sight. 

What  a  change  had  already  come  over  the 
fickle  Bross !  The  maligned  Martin  Mannors 
was  now  a  hero,  for  whom  he  would  have  con- 
signed the  great  Doctor  Buster  to  the  remotest 
ends  of  the  earth ;  and  Miss  Mannors  was  a 
sweet  divinity,  for  whom  he  could  have  for- 
saken his  Sunday-school  and  its  feminine 
attractions ;  she  was  an  angel,  for  whom  he 
might  be  possibly  persuaded  to  lay  down  his 
very  life,  or  even  resign  the  coveted  honor  of 
being  secretary  to  an  extensive  and  distin- 
guished branch  of  the  Young  Men's  Chris- 
tian Association  of  London.  Alas !  what  s 
sudden  fall  from  grace  to  nature.  Poor  Bross 
was  already  a  willing  backslider,  already 
contemplating  further  strides  upou  the  down- 
ward road. 


CHAPTER    XXXL 

After  Mrs.  Pinkley  had  accepted  a  situation 
from  Dr.  Marks,  she  found  it  necessary  to  re- 
move to  a  dwelling  more  convenient  to  his 
celebrated  Home,  in  which  she  might  be  said 
to  be  the  principal  attendant.  She  had  to 
search  for  some  days  before  she  could  find  a 
suitable  house,  yet  the  one  which  she  had  at 
last  secured  was  not  the  style  she  wished,  nor 
was  it  the  most  pleasantly  situated  ;  but  it 
answered  her  puriioso  for  the  time,  as  she 
did  not  expect  to  remain  in  it  very 
long.  The  building  was  one  of  a  row  of 
old,  dilapidated  structures  which  had,  perhaps, 
twD  centuries  before  given  victims  to  the 
great  plague,  and  had  subsequently  escaped 
the  great  conflagration.  Any  way,  it,  bore 
the  marks  of  age,  if  cracked  and  crumbling 
walls,  spreading  door-jambs,  and  sunken  lin- 
tels were  evidence  to  that  extent ;  its  late  oc- 
cupant, an  old  trading  Jew,  having  resided 
there  for  over  fifty  years,  until  ho  was  at  last 
transferred  from  liis  garret  to  his  grave,  and 
deposited  in  the  cemetery — only  just  acmssthe 
street — to  moulder  aud  mingle  with  the  mor- 


M>J 


152 


EXETER  HALL. 


■1 


f. 


!^ 


f 


■;*12' 


tal  remains  of  others  distinguished  as  the  de- 
scendants of  the  great,  ancient  Abraham. 

As  cleanliness  is  said  to  be  next  to  godliness, 
Mrs.  Piukley,  therefore,  as  a  pious  woman, 
could  not  but  exliibit  a  due  regard  for  appear- 
ances ;  and  it  was  not  many  days  before  she 
liad  tlio  lower  front  room — long  used  as  the 
general  store-room  for  the  odds  and  ends  upon 
which  the  old  Jew  advanced  petty  loans — 
clear«'d  of  its  cobwebs,  and,  with  the  ri'main- 
der  of  the  house,  cleansed  and  renovated  as 
much  as  possible.  Indeed,  after  the  operation, 
the  old  store-room,  decked  out  with  its  new  car- 
pet and  old  furniture,  now  looked  more  like  the 
»quiet  jjurlor  of  some  country  inn ;  and  it  was  the 
principal  recei)tion-room  for  the  veiyfewwho 
ever  called  or  gained  admission  at  the  par- 
ticvdar  hours  when  Mrs.  Pinkley  was  likely 
to  be  found  at  home.  During  her  absence, 
the  outer  door  was  generally  kept  locked, 
and  the  entire  place  left  in  charge  of  a  trusty 
hunii)-l)acked  girl  called  Bessy — a  waif,  who 
had  been  deserted  in  childhood,  who  never 
knew  a  ])arent,  and  who,  one  would  think, 
seemed  neither  to  knojy  nor  care  for  any  one 
else  but  Mrs.  Pinkley  ;■  how  she  came  by  her, 
none  could  tell,  but  she  claimed  to  have  adopt- 
ed her  simply  thr< iu<ih  a  humane  motive.  This 
unfortmiate  being  had  been  trained  for  a  sj)ecial 
purpose — trained  to  be  trusted  ;  every  act  was 
to  be  in  strict  conformity  to  the  wishes  of  lier 
mistress  ;  the  training  part  was,  f\o  doubt,  pe- 
culiar, for  if  she  did  not  learn  to  love  the  pro- 
tector she  had  found,  it  was  evident  that  fear 
had  a  ])owerful  intlueuce  in  rendering  her 
obedience  perfect — Mrs.  Pinkley  had  a  slave 
whom  she  could  govern  at  will.  Bessy  was 
allowed  to  grow  up  in  the  grossest  ignorance  ; 
she  took  to  house-keeping,  however — it  was  all 
she  had  been  e\er  taught ;  she  knew  nothing 
of  religion,  except  that  she  was  told  that  there 
was  a  hell,  where,  after  the  woes  of  this  life 
were  ended,  she  would  find  multijjlied  misery 
if  she  did  not  render  faithful  obedience  to  her 
mistress  ;  but  in  the  matter  of  house-kee],«ng, 
she  could  manage  things  pretty  well,  and 
Mrs.  Pinkley  felt  satisfied  that  while  she  was 
away  Bessy  could  take  care  of  the  house,  and 
control  her  tongue  and  her  appetite  according 
to  instructicms. 

The  December  day  had  been  gloomy  ;  it 
was  now  getting  toward  evening,  and  in 
the  upper  fnmt-room  of  Mrs.  Pinkley's  domi- 
cile two  children,  a  boy  and  girl,  stood  silently 
together  at  one  of  the  windows  watching  the 
tlight  of  the  dark  clouds,  or  8i)eculatiug  ujwn 
the  probable  number  of  graves  in  the  Jewish 
cemetery  right  in  front  of  the  house.  The 
room  was  a  co]d-looking  apartment,  scantily 
furnished ;  there  was  an  old,  rickety  table, 
a  few  old  chairs,  and  leaning  against  the 
rough  wall  was  a  kind  of  book-shelf,  upon 
which  lay  scattered  a  few  old  school-books,  a 
Testament,  and  a  number  of  religious  tracts  ; 
there  was  not  the  simplest  picture  or  engra- 
ving to  attract  the  children's  attention,  and 
when  they  grew  weary  looking  at  the  ban* 
walls  of  the  room,  they  could  look  out  and 
see  graves  and  little  iiiounds  in  the  burial 
ground, 

Theii!  were  yew-trees  along  the  walls  of  the 
cemetery,  and  though  monmneuts  were  few, 


still  Jewish  affection  could  be  traced  by  the 
number  of  willows  which  bent  like  mourners 
over  the  last  resting-place  of  many  of  those 
who  had  deiiarted  this  life  resolute  unbelievers 
iii  the  mission  of  the  Christian  Messiah. 
While  the  children  ^atche;'  vacantly  from 
tlie  window,  they  noticed  a  man  standing  un- 
der one  of  the  large  trees— or  rather  behind 
it — and  he  seemed  as  if  lo<jking  at  them  or 
toward  the  house.  He  peered  cautiously  from 
time  to  time,  and  then  drew  back  as  if  to  es- 
cape ob.servation.  Was  he,  too,  a  mourner? 
lie  must  be.  After  he  stood  behind  the  tree 
tor  sonu!  time,  he  commenced  to  pace  slowly 
backward  and  forward,"  treading  down  the 
dead  leaves,  and  Avhilc  still  watching  the 
house,  he  went  and  sat  upon  a  new  grave, 
lie  wore  a  heavy  8ha\il  and  muHled  up  his 
face  as  if  ho  were  weeping,  but  still  he  looked 
at  tiie  house  ;  and  the  children,  in  their  simpli- 
city, pitied  the  sorrowing  Jew. 

"  Dears,  how  quiet  you  are,"  said  Bessy, 
ste.\ling  uj)  behind  them,  and  i)lacing  a  hand 
upon  tlie  shoulder  of  the  boy  and  girl.  "  How 
still  you  do  keep  1  Ma'am  is  away 
again."  She  alwa^'S  called  Mrs.  Pinkley 
"  ma'am,"  and  mostly  in  a  subdued  voice. 
"  Ma'am  is  away,  Miss  Alice — we  can  laugh 
now."  And  Bessy  made  a  wailing  kind  of  at- 
tempt at  laughter  which  almost  startled  the 
children.  "Don't  be  afeart  d  of  me,  dears." 
Why,  Master  Frank,  you  look  frightened  ! 
Poor  Bessv  loves  vou  both,  and  you  know  I 
can  only  laugh  when  you  are  with  me. 
Ma'am  is  away  again,  and  I  want  to  laugh ; 
it  does  me  good— it  does." 

"  Wo  were  looking  at  that  man,"  said  the 
boy,  i)f)inting  to  the  cemetery  ;  "  he  is  a  poor 
Jew — may  be  crying  for  his  children." 

"  Why,  dears,  Jews  have  got  no  hearts — 
ma'am  says  they  "re  such  wicked  bad  uns.  She 
would  kill  'em  and  burn  'em,  I  know  she 
would.  Slie  says  they  are  worse  than — "  ' 
and  Bessy  pointed  downward  significantly,  as 
if  afraid  to  utter  the  name  of  the  evil  one. 

"  Jav^  have  tender  hearts,  like  other  peo- 
ple," said  Alice,  "for  you  know,  Bessy,  how 
it  made  us  all  cry  the  other  day  when  we  8u\V 
the  poor  old  Jew  so  sorry  at  the  big  funeral.  ' 
Oh  !  how  sorry  he  was  ;  they  could  scarcely 
get  him  away  from  the  grave ;  may  bo  that 
poor  nuin  over  there  is  crying  for  somebody 
that's  dead." 

"  May  be,"  said  Bessy,  "  but  a  man  goes  to 
that  place  very  often  just  like  liim,  and  he 
keeps  a  looking  over  tliis  way — see,  he's  look- 
ing at  us  now  I  Ma'am  doesn't  like  un,  and 
she  told  me  to  watch  un,  she  did,  and  to  keep 
the  door  fast,  and  to  let  no  one  come  in  but 
the  doctor.  You  know  how  she  beat  mo  the 
other  day  for  letting  the  man  in  with  the  lot 
of  toys — oh  !  such  bi^auties  ; — and  when  he 
got  in,  he  peeped  here  and  there,  and  asked 
if  there  was  any  children,  and  I  said,  no,  bo- 
cause  ma'am  told  me — she  did." 

"  Oh !    I  wish    we   had  ^seen  them,"  said 
Alice  ;  "  I  wish  we  could  see  something,  I  wish 
we  could   get  out  to  see   somebody — to   seex 
the  nice  green  fields  in  the  country,  only  just 
for  an  hour." 

"  Dears,  dears,  ma'am  would  kill  mo  if  I  was 
to  let  you  0  %  or  let  any  body  come  in  again 


EXETER   HALL. 


158 


— «he  would.  How  I  would  like  to  go  too  ! 
what  are  green  fields  like,  Miss  Alice — like 
thatV" 

"  No,  Bossy,  not  like  that — that's  a  grave- 
yard, full  of  graves  ;  but  the  green  fields  that 
I  remember  are  away,  away  from  streets,  and 
houses,  and  noise — so  very  quiet ;  away  in  the 
country,  where  the  sun  shines,  and  where  we 
could  see  cows  and  little  lambs,  and  could 
pick  daisies  and  buttercups  in  the  springtime 
and—" 

"  O  Miss  Alice  !"  interrnjited  Bessy,  and 
clapping  lier  hands  in  ecstasy,  "do,  do  tell  nie 
about  the  fields  ;  I  often  lieerd  of  fields — green 
fields — tell  me  what  they  are  like."  Bessy  had 
but  a  faint  conception  of  what  they  were  ;  she 
liad  never  been  outside  the  gloom  of  the  city, 
still  she  had  an  idea  tliat  the  countr^,  and  its 
hills  and  fields  might  be  part  of  heav(;n, 
about  which  the  children  spoke  sometimes. 

In  her  eugernesis  to  hear,  she  sat  upon  the 
floor,  as  she  often  did  when  she  was  alone 
with  th(!ni,  placing  one  on  each  side  of  licr. 
Tliey  formed  a  strange  little  group  in  the  dull 
light  before  the  window.  Bessy's  pinchf-d 
and  worn-Io(jking  face  made  her  ai)pear  old  ; 
though  she  was  scarcely  seventeen,  she  might 
have  beiMi  taken  for  thirty  ;  she  seemed  to 
liave  had  no  childhood,  but  to  have  ])assed 
from  infancy  to  maturity  at  one  dreary 
bound.  Her  life  so  far  had  been  but  a  bleak 
period  of  drudgery,  ban'  hip,  and  oppression, 
and  the  only  real  joyful  moments  of  her  ex- 
istence were  those  spent  in  the  socic'ty  of 
tlieso  children  ;  they  were  the  only  beings 
tliat  had  ever  been  truly  kind  to  her,  and 
they  pitied  Bessy  in  her  dt;solatlon.  Un- 
known to  Mrs.  Pink  ley,  they  taught  her  to 
read  ;  for  though  that  stern  Christian  woman 
l)rofe8sed  to  be  a  patron  of  knowledge  and  of 
Sunday-schools,  yet  she  never  permitted  her 
dependent  to  waste  a  moment  with  books — 
Bessy  in  gross  ignorance  served  her  purpose 
better.  Tlie  children,  however,  were  not  sus- 
pected, and  they  took  pleasure  in  imparting 
to  Bessy  a  share  of  their  little  stock  of  know- 
ledge, and  Bessy,  in  return,  loved  them  witli  all 
the  intensity  of  her  benevolent  nature  ;  they 
seemed  to  be,  like  herself,  the  inheritors  of  af- 
fliction. Alice,  the  oh'  iv  child,  was  about  ten 
years  of  age,  a  delicat  vlsoking  girl ;  she  had 
beautiful  Ijrown  hair,  which  Hi^ssy  took  great 
delight  in  twi,sting  into  long  curls.  Fi-ank 
might  be  two  years  younger ;  he  was  a  healthy 
boy,  very  intelligent  for  his  age,  and  singu- 
larly independent  in  his  manner  of  thinking. 
For  mcn-e  than  a  year  Bessy  had  been  almost 
theirpuly  com])anion.  Mrs.  Pinkley  was  gen- 
erally away  during  the  day  and  often  during 
tlie  night,  and,  when  thus  left  ahme,  as  soou 
as  Bessy  hurried  through  with  her  work,  they 
would  all  sit  tdgether  in  the  upper  room,  and 
the  children  would  tell  of  what  they  had  seen 
of  the  world  outside  of  London,  and  tell  of 
their  mother,  and  of  the  nice  home  they  once 
had  ;  and  when  they  wept,  as  they  often  did, 
for  tliat  mother  and  home,  B(>ssy  would  weep 
too,  and  bo  their  only  C(nnforter. 

After  Alice  had  de'lighted  Bessy  with  a  de- 
scription of  the  fields,  trees,  hills,  and  streams 
of  the  quiet  country,  and  had  contrasted  cot- 
tages and  gardens  with  old  houses  in  dirty, 


[  crowded  city  thoroughfares,  Frank  did  his 
part  by  hearing  Bessy  spell  her  hard  words, 
and  then  he  assisted  her  to  read  the  last  tract 
which  had  been  left  with  him  by  Mrs.  Pink- 
ley  ;  it  gave  a  terrible  description  of  the  final 
judgment,  and  of  hell,  and  of  the  woeful 
doom  of  the  wicked  •  and  it  was  completed 
by  the  three  following  verses,  from  one  of  the 
most  orthodox  hymn-books  :  * 

"Tho  groat  archangt'l's  trump  shall  sound, 

(While  twirc  ton  thousiuid  thundurn  roar,)  • 

Tear  up  the  |j;raves  and  cleave  the  ground, 
And  make  the  greedy  eeu  restore. 

"  Tho  greedy  sea  shall  yield  her  dead, 
The  earth  no  more  her  slain  conceal ; 
Sinners  shall  lift  their  guilty  he.id. 
And  shrink  to  see  a  yawning  hell. 

"  We.  while  tho  stars  from  heaven  shall  fall. 
And  mountains  are  on  'nountains  hurled, 
Shall  stand  unmoved  amidst  them  all, 
And  smile  to  see  a,  burning  world." 

Poor  Bessy  shuddered ;  she  looked  in  the 
boy's  face,  but  she  saw  no  chaiigo — "o  terror ; 
neither  did  his  sister  seem  to  be  much  af- 
fected. 

"  Dears,  are  you  not  afeared  ?  Isn't  that 
dreadful?  Don't  let's  read  any  more  of  it, 
Master  Fraidc.  O  my !  O  my  1  ^la'am  says 
it's  all  true — she  does  ;  better  we'd  never  been 
born — never  been  born." 

"  Bessy,  it's  not  true,"  ^id  the  boy,  try- 
ing to  assure  her  ;  "  my  ma  often  tn\Ct  me  so  ; 
she  said  there  Avas  no  such  place  as  hell,  and 
that  God  was  good  and  loved  everybody,  and 
would  never  burn  them  up." 

"  lie  won't  ?  0  dears,  dears  I  I  hope  he 
won't ;  dears,  I  hope  1" 

"  lie  won't,  Bessy,"  continued  the  boy ; 
"God  never  made  such  a  horrid  place  ;  it  was 
the  priests  who  made  hell — ma  said  that, 
foo."t 

"  0  Miss  Alice !  isn't  it  dreadful  to  think 
on  ?  I  could  love  God  better  if  there  was  no 
liell — I  could.  I  wouldn't  want  to  hide  from 
him  so  if  he  was  as  good  to  me,  dears,  as  you 
are — I  wouldn't." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  God,  Bessy,"  .^aid  Frank. 
"  I  remember  that  ma  used  to  tell  us  that 
cruel  men  make  a  cruel  God  ;  if  I  was  very, 
very  sick,  and  going  to  die  to-morrow,  I 
wouldn't  be  afraid.' 

"God  loves  all  good  people,  Bessy,"' said 
Alice  ;  "  I  think  he  loves  every  body  ;  he  loves 
you,  for  you  are  good — I  am  sure  he  does." 

"  Oh  !  but  I'm  very  wicked,  dear — I  am. 
I  w(nil(l  like  to  be  very  good.  Miss  Alice — I 
would,  but  I'm  a  very  bad  un,  I  8upi)oso ; 
for  ma'am  says  I'm  so  terribly  wicked — she 
does  ;  but  you  know  I  didn't  make  myself;  if 
I  did,  I'd  be  a  good  bit  better— 1  would.  Miss 
Alice.    God  pity  us  all !" 

"  God  will  pity  us  all,  Bessy,"  said  the  chil- 
dren solemnly. 

During  the  pause  which  followed,  th(>re  was  a 
loud  thump  heard  at  the  front-door.  The  chil- 
dren  were  startled,  the  boy  became  rather  agi- 
tated, and  grew  suddenly  pale ;  and  as  Bessy 
moved  off  on  tip-toe,  she  beckoned  significant- 
ly and  whispered,  "  Ilish,  lush,  dears  !  "tis  th' 
doctor,  'tis  th'  doctor." 


H 


*  i! 


*  Wesley's  Hymns. 


t  See  Note  D. 


164 


EXETER    HALL. 


S'  >     {■? 


{  v 


"•WW*. 


I''  ' 


ii 


T[\e  children  inBtinctivcly  drew  into  a  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  and  the  nmn  in  the  cemetery 
moved  from  the  jrrave  on  Mliidi  he  had  been 
sitting,  and  stood  looking  at  the  house  again 
from  lieliind  the  big  tree. 

Before  Uessy  had  time  to  reach  the  door, 
another  loud  knock  was  given.  She  had  no 
occaei<m  t;  look  through  tlie  yide-lights  to  be 
assured  of  who  was  Avaiting  for  admittance, 
for  already  slie  could  hear  Doctor  Buster  mut- 
tering eitlier  prayt^rs  or  curses  at  her  delay, 
and,  as  soon  as  the  door  was  opened,  he 
Btamped  in  rudely  past  her,  and  in  a  gruff, 
impatient  voice  asked  for  Mrs.  Pinkley." 

"  She  be  out,  sir,"  said  Bessy,  almost  trem- 
bling. 

"  Out  ?  the  devil !  How  long  has  she  been 
out  V     When  will  she  be  back '!" 

"  More'n  an  hour  or  two,  sir ;  she's  a  coming 
back  soon — soon,  sir." 

"  When  is  soon,  you  jade — you  damned 
hump  ?     Where  are  the  children  T 

The  doctor  was  evidently  annoyed,  irri- 
tated. He  did  not  expect  to  find  Mrs.  Pink- 
ley  out,  and  her  absence  and  may  be  other 
matters  had  ruffled  his  temper.  He  did  not 
wait  for  Bessy's  answer,  and,  as  lie  mounted  the 
creaking  stairs,  the  children  tried  to  crouch 
further  into  the  corner,  and  the  man  in  the 
cemetery  moved  closer  toward  the  house. 

The  room  was. gloomy,  and  as  the  doctor 
paused  jn  the  doorway,  his  dark  form  loomed 
up  in  the  dusky  light  like  a  great  spectre,  and 
when  his  eye  rested  upon  the  little  fugitives 
in  the  corner,  he  seemed  to  get  rather  angry, 
and  said  in  a  sharp,  upbraiding  manner: 
"Why,  what  do  you  hide  there  for,  you  stu- 
pid fools  ■?  W^ho  did  you  expect  to  see  com- 
ing?   Come  out  of  that — come  here!" 

The  frightened  boy  sat  still,  but  Alice 
moved  toward  her  father  ;  yet  slu^  a]>proached 
him  in  a  hesitating  manner,  which  did  not 
tend  to  make  him  more  amiable. 

"Come  on,  girl — do.     Am  I  an  elephant?"- 

"  O  pa  !  we  were  a  little  afraid  ;  for  a  man 

came  into  the  house  the  other  day,  you  know, 

and — "  and  the   girl  hesitated  still  uioi'e  in 

trving  to  frame  some  excuse. 

"  A  man  in  the  other  day  I  I  know  that. 
Was  he  here  again  ?  Did  that  cursed  hump- 
back let  him  in  a  second  time?" 

"  No,  pa  ;  no,  sir,  Bessy  did  not,  she  didn't, 
indeed,  jia  ;  but  we  saw  a  man  over  there  this 
evening,  and  we  were  afraid."  And  Alice 
jwinted  to  the  burial-ground  across  the  street. 
The  doctor  went  quickly  to  the  window, 
and  looked  eagerly  out  toward  the  place,  but 
the  man  in  the  cemetery  suddenly  drew  back 
behind  a  tree,  and,  as  it  was  getting  dark,  the 
doctor  made  no  discovery. 

"  I  see  no  one  ;  you  mustn't  be  afraid  of  your 
shadow.  What  are  you  skulking  there  for, 
sir?  Come  here!  What  is  the  brat  think- 
ing of?" 

"  Frank  was  afraid  too,  pa,"  said  Alice,  try- 
ing to  be  cheerful.  "  Come,  Frank,  pa  has  got 
a  nice  book  for  us." 

The  boy  left  his  corner  rather  reluctantly. 
Alice  took  his  hand  and  led  him  on,  and, 
when  he  ventured  to  glance  upward  at  his 
father,  he  saw  him  standing  near  the  window 
frowning,  and  holding  hie  golrt-iieaded  caue. 


"What  have  you  been  doing,  sir?  You 
look  as  if  you  had  been  guilty  of  something," 
said  the  doctor. 

"Oh!  nothing,  sir,  indeed,  nothing;  but  I 
said  my  lessons  to  Alice,  and  we  read  a  tract 
for  Bessy." 

"You  like  tracts,  do  you?"  said  the  doctor 
ironically,  and  he  glanced  at  the  latest  doc- 
trinal effusion  of  the  society,  tlu;  reading  of 
which  had  so  alarmed  poor  Bessy.  "  Any 
thing  rather  than  read  your  Testament — tracts 
or  any  thing." 

"  Wt;  read  it  every  day,  pa,  we  do,  indeed," 
said  Alice. 

"  You  read !  Yes,  you  nad,  but  do  you  be- 
lieve— does  he  ?" 

"  He  does,  pa,  I  believe,  and  so  does  Frank, 
almost  all — almost  every  thing."  And  Alice 
nearly  tresj^assed  on  the  truth  to  try  and  con- 
ciliate her  father. 

"  Almost !"  retorted  the  doctor ;  "  those  who 
almost  believe  will  be  aluKist  saved,  think  of 
that !  Almost  won't  do  ;  it  must  be  a  full  and 
entire  belief.  I  have  heard  that  this  wicked 
brat  almost  believes — almost ;  that  won't  do 
for  me.  If  he  doubts  that  Ood  will  be  re- 
venged, if  he  doubts  that  there  is  a  hell,  he 
may  find  one,  as  I  hope  all  unbelievers  will 
do.  He  must  believe  it."  The  doctor  stamjv 
ed  upon  the  floor  as  he  uttered  the  last  four 
words,  and  the  boy  trembled  as  he  stood  be- 
fore him. 

"  Indeed,  pa,"  pleaded  Alice,  "  we  read  a 
good  deal  every  day  ;  we  like  the  Testament 
\cvy  much.  To-day  we  read  sucli  nice  chap- 
ters— we  read  of  how  Christ  ]>r('ached  forgive- 
ness, of  how  he  fed  the  multitude,  and  of  how 
he  cured  lepers,  and  poor,  sick  peoiile,  tmd  of 
how  he  blessed  little  children,  and  of  how  he 
wept  at  the  grave  when  he  raised  the  dead 
Lazarus.  You  know,  pa,  that  every  oiie 
would  like  to  believe  these  things — and  we 
would  too." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see ;  like  a  good  many  others, 
you  would  like  to  believe  in  all  mercies,  in  all 
forgiveness,  but  what  of  divine  justice?  Clod 
must  be  avenged.  Now,  let  me  see  what  you 
know  on  this  point."  The  doctor  drew  a 
chair  and  sat  down.asifpreiiannl  to  catechise. 
"  I  have  ordered  you  to  read  the  Bible,  now 
let  me  test  j'our  knowledge. 

"  Wliat  is  said  in  the  Old  Testament  with 
respect  to  the  vengeance  of  the  Lord?  Will 
ho  be  av«!nged  ?" 

Alice  gave  the  answer  out  of  the  book  of 
Nahum,  1st  chapter,  2d  and  6th  verses  :  "  God 
w  jealous,  and  the  Lord  revcngeth*;  the  Lord 
revengeth,  and  is  furious  :  the  Lord  will  take 
vengeance  on  his  adversaries,  and  \\e  reserveth 
wrath  for  his  enemies.  W'ho  ("an  stand  before 
his  indignation?  and  who  can  abide  in  the 
fierceness  of  his  anger?  his  fury  is  poured  out 
like  fire,  and  the  rocks  are  thrown  down  by 
him." 

"  What  are  the  divine  threats  against  the 
disobedient?" 

She  answered  from  Leviticus,  chapter  20  : 
27,  and  from  Isaiah  34  :  3 :  "  And  if  ye  will 
not  for  all  this  hearken  unto  me,  but  walk 
contrary  to  me:  Then  will  I  walk  contrary 
unto  you  also  in  fUry,  and  I,  even  I,  will  chas- 
tise you  seven  times  for  your  sins.    And  ye 


■rii 


iV 


«ir  ?  You 
jmetbing," 

ing;  but  I 
ead  a  tract 

the  doctor 
latest  <loc- 
reading  of 
'*y.  "  Any 
ent — tracts 

o,  indeed," 

do  you  be- 

oea  Frank, 
And  Alice 
y  and  con- 

those  who 
d,  think  of 
3  a  full  and 
his  wicked 
t  won't  do 
ivill  be  re- 
?  a  hell,  be 
ievers  will 
;tor  stain])- 
le  last  four 
e  stood  be- 

we  read  a 

Testament 

nice  chap- 

ed  forgiv©- 

iind  of  how 

|»le,  find  of 

)f  how  he 

the  dead 

every  one 

8 — and  we 

my  others, 
ies,  in  nil 
ice?  Ciod 
what  you 
drew  a 
catechise. 
Uble,  now 

nent  with 
•d?    Will 

book  of 
■es:  "God 

the  Lord 
will  take 
reserveth 
nd  before 

0  in  the 
lOured  out 

down  by 

fainst  the 

iptor  20  : 
f  ye  will 
jut  walk 
contrary 
,vill  chas- 
And  ye 


-  -i-Y»afe_ 


EXEETR    HALL. 


155 


shall  eat  the  flesh  of  your  sons,  and  the  flesh 
of  your  daughters  shall  yt^  eat.  And  I  will 
destroy  your  high  i>hic('S,  and  sut  df)wn  your 
images,  and  cast  your  carcasses  u|)on*  the 
carcasses  of  your  idols,  and  niy  wnil  shall  ab- 
hor you. 

"  Their  slain  shall  bo  cast  out,  and  their 
stink  shall  come  up  out  of  their  carcasses,  and 
the  mountains  shall  be  melted  with  their 
bl(K)d."    (Isaiah  !}4:  3.) 

"  Were  they  not  to  be  cursed  by  the  Lord  ? 
What  were  tlie  maledictions '!" 

Again  she  answered,  reciting  several  verses 
from  the  28tli  chapter  of  Deuteronomy  :  "  But 
it  shall  cimie  to  pass,  if  thou  wilt  not  heark- 
en unto  the  voice  »4'  tin*  Lord  thy  God,  to 
observe  to  do  all  his  commandments  and  his 
statutes  which  I  command  thee  this  day,  that 
all  these  curses  shul!  come  upon  thee  :  Cursed 
shalt  thou  he  in  the  city,  and  cursed  fthalt  thou 
be  in  the  Held.  Cursed  s/iall  be  thy  basket  and 
thy  store.  Cursed  sfinll  be  the  'fruit  of  thy 
body,  and  the  fruit  of  thy  land,  the  increase 
of  thy  kine,  and  the  flocks  of  thy  sheep. 
Cursed  fiJiiilt  thou  be  when  thou  comest  in, 
and  cursed  shnlt  thou  he  when  thou  goest  out. 
The  Lord  shall  send  upon  thee  cursing,  vexa- 
tion, and  rebuke,  in  all  that  thou  settest  thine 
hand  unto  for  to  do,  until  thou  be  destroyed, 
and  until  tboji  i)erish  quickly  :  l)ecause  of  the 
wickedness  of  thy  doings  whereby  thou  hast 
forsaken  me.  The  Lord  shall  make  tlu;  pesti- 
lence cleave  unto  thee  until  he  have  consumed 
thee  from  oft"  the  land,  whither  thou  goest  to 
possess  it.  The  Lord  shall  smite  thee  with  a 
consumption,  and  with  a  fever,  and  with  an 
inflammation,  and  with  an  extremt^  burning, 
and  with  the  sword,  and  with  blasting,  and 
with  mildew  ;  and  they  shall  pursue  thee  un- 
til thou  perish."  She  paused,  as  if  wearied  with 
the  weight  of  cursing,  and  the  doctor  seemed 
to  exult  in  the  proofs. 

"  Ila !  that's  it ;  no  silly  tempering  of  mer- 
cy here,  no  weak  relenting,  no  robbery  of 
divine  justice !  Now,  what  is  to  be  the  doom 
of  unbelievers  and  Avicked  Y'  And  he  rubbed 
his  hands  in  anticipation  of  the  answer. 

"  The  wicked  shall  be  turned  into  hell,  and 
all  the  nations  that  forget  God."  (Psalm  9  : 
17.)  "  Upon  the  wicked  he  shall  rain  snares, 
fire,  and  brimstone,  and  a  horrible  t(Mnpest ; 
this  shall  be  the  portion  of  their  cup."  (Psalm 
11 :  0.)  "  I  will  be  unto  them  as  a  lion  ;  as  a 
leopard  by  the  way  will  I  observe  them.  I 
will  meet  them  as  a  bear  t?int  is  bereav"'  of 
her  tchelpfi,  and  will  rend  the  caul*of  tiu  ir 
heart,  and  there  will  I  devour  them  like  a 
Uon."    (ITosea  13 :  7,  8.) 

"  Prove  that  God's  wrath  will  not  be  finally 
appeased." 

"  Mine  eye  shall  not  spare,  neither  will  I 
Lave  pity."  (Ezcsk.  7 : 0.)  "  I  also  will  laugh  at 
your  calamity ;  I  will  mock  when  your  fear 
Cometh."  (Pro.  1 :  20.) "  When  your  fear  comcth 
as  a  desolation,  and  your  destruction  cometh 
as  a  whirlwind,  when  distress  and  anguish 
como  upon  you,  then  shall  ye  call  upon  me, 
but  I  will  not  answer."    (37  :  29.) 

"  Give  mo  a  few  texts  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  proof  of  eternal  punishment." 

She  answered,  "  The  Lord  Jesus  shall  be 
revealed  from  heaven  with  his  mighty  angels, 


in  flaming  fire  taking  vengeance  on  them  that 
know  not  0(k1,  and  that  obey  not  the  Gosih-I 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Who  shall  l>e 
punished  with  everlasting  destruction  from 
the  presence  of  the  Lord,  and  from  the  glory 
of  his  power."  (2  Thes.  1 : 7,  8,  9.)  "  The  smoke 
of  their  torment  ascendeth  up  forever  and 
ever."    (Kev.  14  :  11.) 

"  Will  not  these  judgments  be  approved  of 
by  the  righteous  ?" 

"  He  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  langli ; 
the  Lord  shall  have  them  in  derision."  (Psalm 
2  :  4.)  "  The  righteous  see  it,  and  are  glad  ; 
and  the  innocent  laugh  them  to  scorn."  (Job 
22  :  19.)  "  The  righteous  shall  see,  and  fear, 
and  shall  laugh  at  him."  (Psalm  52  :  6.) 
"Let  Mount  Zion  rejoice;  let  the  daughters 
of  Judah  be  glad,  because  of  thy  judgments." 
(Psalm  48  :  11.)  "  The  righteous  shall  rejoice 
when  he  seeth  the  vengeance ;  he  shall 
wash  his  feet  in  the  blood  of  the  wicked." 
(Psalm  58  :  10.) 

"  Here  is  sufficient  evidence !  Nothing 
about  mercy  or  forgiveness,  no  yielding  to 
pleadings  for  pity  ;  and  i/'>ii,  dare  to  doubt 
the.se  denunciations,"  said  he,  turning  au-  ago- 
ly  to  the  boy. 

"  O  pa!"  again  interceded  Alice,  "  he  does 
not  understand  it ;  he  will  believe  all  soon." 

"Soon!  he  mu4  believe  now;  curse  him, 
does  he  want  to  follow  his  mother?  does  he 
ever  say  his  prayers  ?" 

"  I  pray,  and  Bessy  prays,  pa ;  wo  all  pray 
sometimes."  And  Alice  now  bcsgan  to  trem- 
ble as  she  stood  before  her  angry  parent. 

"  Does  he  pray,  I  ask  ?  Have  you  prayed 
to-day  V"  said  he,  scowling  down  upon  Frank. 

The  boy  could  not  utter  a  word ;  he  held 
his  sister  firmly  by  the  hand,  bent  his  head, 
and  remained  silent. 

"  Pray,  you  infernal  imp  !  none  of  your 
mother's  doings  here — quick,  or  I'll  make  you 
pray." 

The  little  fellow  could  scarcely  stand  ;  ho 
looked  up  imploringly,  his  eyes  were  filled 
with  tears  ;  he  knelt  down,  he  tried  to  re- 
member a  prayer,  a  verse, a  text, or  anything, 
but  could  only  utter,  "  Our  Father — deliver 
us  from  evil ;  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sin- 
ner !" 

O  dear !  dear  child,  God  ha'  mercy  on  you 
now,"  said  Bessy,  clapping  her  liands  to- 
gether and  l(K)king  into  tlie  room. 

"  Begone,  you  beast,"  said  the  now  iiffuriated 
doctor,  banging  the  door  in  Bc^ssy's  face.  And 
while  the  poor  creature  stood  upon  the  dark 
stairway,  wringing  her  hands  and  sobbing, 
the  doctor  rushed  back,  and  shouted  almost 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  across  the  street, 
"  Pray,  damn  you  !  imp  of  your  mothi^r ;  if  you 
don't  pray  at  once,  I'll  take  your  cursed  life." 

Alice  was  almost  ready  to  faint  ;  she  still 
held  her  brother's  hand  ;  he  could  not  speak  ; 
he  tried  to  get  up  to  recede  a  step  or  two,  luit 
before  he  could  move  away,  his  father  struck 
him  several  quick  blows  and  smashed  his  cane. 
Alice  screamed,  and  fell  fainting.  Bessy  rusb- 
ed  in,  but  before  she  had  time  to  shield  the 
prostrate  boy,  the  doctor  seized  the  cane  by 
its  broken  end,  and,  with  one  mighty  blow,* 

•  See  Note  I. 


'■',-M', » - 


■  V  1  ■ 


r 


1 


I     .,  V: 


1^;^ 


150 


EXETER    HALL. 


MJjj 


i^-' 

***. 


\^ 


•sJ  f 


biiried  its  heavy  golden  handle  in  the  child's 
head. 

The  man  in  the  cometory  heard  Bessy's 
wild  wiiil  ;  he  bounded  over  the  wall  and 
iiished  toward  the  house.  Mi-s.  Pinkley  had 
just  hurriedly  eutensd  before  him  ;  ho  heard 
the  eommotion  in  the  upjier  room,  and  her 
sharp  accusations  Jj^n  the  discovery  of  the 
crime. 

"  O  madman,  madman  I  you've  done  it 
now;  what  shall  we  do'.'"  sh(i  cried;  "is  all 
forever  iost?  NNIuit  shall  we  doV  I  ''aution- 
ed  you  thirt  morning;  see  how  you  ha.vj  end- 
ed the  day." 

MullMiig  his  face  closely,  the  man  stole  up 
the  stsiirway  and  iJoepod  into  the  room  from 
tlie  dark  liibl)y;  he  drew  back  in  horror! 
There  lay  tlie  dying  boy  in  a  pool  of  blood — 
his  sister  was  in  a  swoon.  Bessy  knelt  wail- 
ing at  his  side,  and  Mrs.  Pinkley  stood  before 
tlio  bewildered  doctor,  hurling  bitter  re- 
proaches and  cursing  Iiis  madness.  The  man 
remained  but  a  few  moments  ;  ho  left  the 
liousi)  as  (juietly  as  he  had  entere*!.  He  went 
his  way  undiscovered  ;  he  did  not  again  enter 
the  burial-ground.  See.  ho  hurries  away  ! 
Who  is  to  hear  his  terrible  tidings? 

It  is  nearly  dark  ;  there  is  another  great 
funeral  in  the  .Jewish  cemetery.  Death  stalks 
about  the  place,  and  pef)ple  are  in  sorrow. 
Is  it  his  grim  carnival?  The  night  wind 
begins  to  moan  through  the  leafless  willows 
and  to  mingle  with  the  sobbings  whicli  are 
heard  around.  But  stay  ;  'tis  the  triumph  of 
woe — here  is  another  victim  !  Is  it  a  Cliris- 
tian  corpse  ?  Ah  I  how  poor  Bessy  weeps. 
Say,  who  sliall  weep  for  her?  Hearts  of 
pity  !  see  those  closed  eyes  and  that  little 
pale,  ui>turned  faci>,  see  that  little  hand 
clutched  in  gore  !  Alas!  how  that  little  form 
already  stittens  in  death.  Wrap  it  nj)  hastily 
in  its  shroud  ;  hide  it,  'tis  a  foul  sight  ;  get 
ready  its  grave — take  it  out"  stealthily — take 
it  out  in  tlie  night,  that  none  may  ever  know 
the  tearless  mourners. 


CHAPTER    XXXIL 

Night  had  set  in  for  some  time  ;  it  was  very 
dark  ;  the  large  strectdamp  in  front  of  the 
massive  door  of  a  large,  dreary -looking  house 
flashed  "upon  the  ))olished  door-plate,  and  the 
wayfarer  who  could  read  might  trace,  almost  at 
a  glance,  the  words,  "  Doctor  Andrew  Mar'Ks's 
Private  Asylum."  This  was  his  celebrated 
Home,  his  Maisou  dc  Sante;  there  was  a  still- 
ness about  the  ])lace,  and  but  few  lights  could 
be  seen  in  its  up]X'r  barred  windows.  Many 
of  the  atllicted  ones  had  already  been  obliged 
to  retire  to  tlieir  narrow  rooms  to  rave  or 
Bcrand)le  ujjon  narrow  beds,  and  kings,  beg- 
gars, emperors,  and  messialis,  the  hopeful  and 
the  desponding,  were  again  secured  by  bolt 
and  bar,  and  left  alone  to  sing  or  whine, 
command  or  imjdore,  according  to  the  mood 
of  a  disordennl  inmgination. 

Doctor  Murks  was  alone  in  his  study  ;  he  had 
visited  liis  ])atiei\ts,  and  was  now  looking  over 
the  eveninjr  papers.  A  few  attendants  moved 
noiselessly  about,  and  the  keeper  of  the  wards, 


who  was  to  be  on  duty  until  after  midnight, 
paced  leisurely  up  and  down  the  long  hall 
between  the  prisondike  dormitories.  Now 
and  then  the  stillness  would  Ik*  broken  by  the 
wlum]iering  complaints  of  B<'me  neglected 
monarch  strutting  in  his  den,  or  bj  some  des- 
l)onding  penitent  moaning  for  mercy.  But 
the  keeper  heeded  not ;  he  had  often  been  bo- 
songlit  by  iKitentatcs,  and  was  now  getting 
accustomed  to  their  api)eals,  and  could  allow 
their  humble  petitions  to  remain  unanswer- 
ed with  all  the  indifference  of  a  god.  But 
the  keeper  was  not,  however,  as  hard-luMirted  ; 
lie  often  stopped  at  one;  end  of  the  dim  hall 
to  listen  sadly  to  the  mutterings  of  spiritual 
despair  which  fell  in  doleful  words  from  the 
(luivering  lips  of  erne  who  iancied  tliat  (n>il 
liad  utterly  forsaken  her,  and  that  her  day 
of  grace  had  fctrever  passed  ;  and  day  and 
night,  through  bright  hours,  or  S(denin  dark- 
ness, the  sad  burden  of"  Lost,  lost,  forever  lost" 
could  be  heard  in  the  same  sad  monotone 
almost  continually.  He  had  just  been  listen- 
ing to  the  doleful  repetition ;  all  else  had 
become  tolerably  quiet,  as  if  one  great  grief 
had  silenced  all  the  rest.  Looking  care- 
fully around,  lu^  then  lessened  the  light  in 
the  hall-lamp  and  proceeded  cautiously  along 
the  passage  ;  at  its  end  there  was  a  short  stair- 
way ;  this  he  ascended,  and  went  ahmg  a 
narrow  way  leading  to  a  few  Vooms  at  the 
back  of  the  building.  Mrs.  Pinkley  general- 
ly oocupi(>d  one  of  these ;  she  was  now  ab- 
sent ;  and  the  keeper,  having  paused  a  moment 
or  two,  and  finding  that  all  Avas  quiet,  gave 
a  peculiar  tap  at  tlie  door  of  the  adjoining 
room ;  tlien  drawing  a  note  from  his  ])ocket, 
he  hastily  thrust  it  under  the  d<x)r-way.  and 
returned  to  his  8tati<m  in  the  lower  hall. 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock ;  the  nightd)ell 
was  rung  briskly,  the  fnmt-docjr  was  open- 
ed, and  Mrs.  Pinkley  entered.  She  went 
into  Doctor  Marks's  study  ;  she  looked  flurried 
and  excited,  and,  throwing  lier  cloak  aside, 
stood  in  front  of  the  table  at  wliich  the  doctor 
was  sitting.  He  had  been  writing  ;  he  laid 
his  pen  aside,  and  l(M)ked  u])  at  his  visitor  ;  she 
was  mute.  Mrs.  Pinkley  seemed  unable  to 
speak;  the  doctor  began  to  feel  su^p^l^ed; 
there  she  stood  like  a  statue,  and  he  was 
about  to  qtiestion  her,  Avlicn  she  at  last  man- 
aged to  excluim,  "O  doctor,  doct<n-!  I  have 
such  dreadful  tidings!  dreadful  tidings!  Oli ! 
yes,  yes,  yes  ;  dreadful,  terrible,  fearful ;  what 
shall  be  done?  what  shall  be  done?  0  doc- 
tor, do<^or !" 

"  For  heaven's  sake !"  said  the  doctor, 
becoming  alarmed,  "  what  is  t]>e  matter  ?  You 
look  frightened ;  sit  down,  try  and  be  calm, 
l(!t  me  know  what  is  the  matter."  The  doctor 
drew  a  chair,  and  almost  forced  the  woman 
into  it.  "  Sit  down„sit  down,  and  tell  me  what 
is  wrong." 

"O  good  God!  'tis  terrible!  How  shall 
I  b«>gin  to  tell  you — how  am  I  to  commence? 
'Tif*  a  death  story,  a  story  of  blood  !^'  And 
while  Mrs.  Pinkley  was  making  efforts  to 
apiiear  distracted — indeed  she  actually'  fan- 
cied some  impending  danger — a  man  was 
looking  in,  and  listening  from  the  outside; 
he  could  see  into  the  room  througli  a  sniftll 
opening  in  the  shutter ;  he  heard  her  piwsion- 


EXETER    HALL. 


157 


ato  words ;  he  wns  well  muflltHl  np.  and  as 
he  heard  tlie  ntci)  of  8oi:ie  wuiidcrinjj:  ]>itlic(' 
man,  he  moved  away  from  the  window  un- 
til it  i»asH((d;  he  tl.vn  resumed  his  i)osition, 
as  if  determined  to  catcli  every  word  and 
watoli  every  motion. 

"  Mrs.  Pinkley,"  said  the  doctor,  asMuminj; 
the  calmest  possible  tone,  "jiray  tell  nn' 
what  has  happened;  is  medical  aid  n(  f-essa)  ^  V 
let  me  know  at  once." 

"O  doctor!  you  can  bo  of  little  service 
now  ;  'tis,  I  fear,  too  late,  too  late  :  let  nu' 
think  a  moment,  and  I  will  tell  you  all."  She 
stooped  iiud  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  as 
if  afraid  to  hK)k  at  tlie  lijrlit  or  at  the  man 
before  her.  "You  renu'ml)er,  doctor,  tiiat  T 
told  you  this  morninjr  1  wanted  to  see  Doctor 
Buster  ;  I  heer'd  he  was  hack.  He  was  away 
for  some  days,  and  I  thouurlit  he  mijiht  want 
to  know  about  the  children,  and  I  wante(l 
to  tell  him  how  his  wife  was  trouVded  with 
these  spasms,  so  as  in  case  any  thinji  hayipen- 
ed  that  lie  mifrht  be  |)repared  for  the  worst. 
Well,  I  saw  tlie  doctor,  but  I  was  delayed 
lonfrer  tliau  I  expected.  I  hurried  back,  but 
before  1  came  here,  I  just  looked  into  my 
own  house  to  see  if  thiiifrg  was  all  rifrht. 
I  mtit  Uessy  at  the  door  ;  there  was  some- 
thinor  wild  in  her  look.  O  that  unfortu- 
nate is'ivl,  that  I  tried  to  save  from  misery  and 
starvat  ion !  Years  ajjo  I  took  pity  on  her ;  she 
was  a  humpbacked  foundlinir,  and  I  brouf^ht 
her  np  as  if  she  was  my  own  child.  I've 
had  a  world  of  trouide  with  her,  doctor ;  I 
tried  to  teach  her  somcthinjj,  but  she  was 
only  a  half-idiot  at  best.  'Twas  in  a  ])lacc 
like  tliis  slie  oufrht  to  have  been — I  see  it 
now  wlieu  it's  too  late.  However,  wIk-u  I  {jfot 
tlie  doctors  cl)ildreu  to  my  charjjc,  she  seem- 
ed to  take  to  them  for  a  time,  but  slu!  was 
often  very  cross,  and  h(nid.-5tron<j,  and  cruel  ; 
but  of  course  the  cliildren  woiddn't  tell  me, 
the  poor  thinj^s  bon;  with  a  <rood  d(;al  that 
I  never  lietu'd  of.  Anyhow,  lately — anil  it  was 
by  mere  chiince  1  discovered — I  found  that 
she  ffi)t  aciiuainted  with  some  man  wlio  she 
kept  about  the  phice,  and  I  also  found  that 
she  sometimes  actually  let  liim  into  tln'  house  ; 
just  think  of  that.  I  mis.sed  some  thinys;  he 
was,  I  supi)ose,  (me  fif  our  street  thieves; 
what  a  ("i.'ipanion  for  an  honest  jjirl!  She 
said  he  was  some  kind  of  a  ]ieddler  ;  an<l.  when 
I  reproved  her  t'T  her  vile  conduct — I  only  said 
i\  few  W()nls — siio  jrrew  terril)ly  anirry,  and 
beofan  to  thieatrn,  a-  slie  always  did  wlir-n 
I  made  the  least  complaint.  I  often  hecnl 
her  say  that  if  I  scolded  her  she  would 
make  'away  with  herself,  or  take  poison,  or 
do  somethinjT  very  bad  :  you  know,  doctor, 
that  I  am  but  a  ]ioor  scold,  but  I  y'ot  iiccus- 
tomed  to  Bessy's  threats  and  I  didn't  mind 
them.  1  mentioned  this  mutter  once,  I  tliink. 
to  D()Ctor  Buster,  but  lie  only  treated  it  as  a 
silly  joke;  in  fact,  he  is  too  kind-hearterl  a 
man  to  thiidc  bad  rtf  a  creature  that  seenu^d 
BO  forlorn  at  times;  indeed,  he  pitied  Bessy 
as  much  as  I  did.  However,  wlicn  I  lelt  the 
house  this  afternoon  to  cnnu-  here,  every  thinii; 
appeared  (juiet  enouj^li,  exci'i)t  that  1  noticed 
tl'.at  Bessy  had  but  little  ti  say — she  was 
rather  surly.  Ah!  what  a  < mfidinjr  fool  I 
was;  for  when  I  returned  to  the  house,  just 


about  dark,  what  did  I  see?  O  doctor! 
'twas  terrible.  When  I  went  in,  I  could 
see  no  person  ;  every  thing  was  very  quiet, 
as  I  said.  I  called,  no  one  answered,  no  Bes- 
sy  could  be  seen.  I  b(>}ran  to  <rrow  alarm- 
ed, I  called  at,'ain  and  a^ain  ;  I  ran  up-stairs 
at  last,  and,  when  I  lookftd  into  the  room, 
jjracious  (Jod!  what  did  I  find'?  I  thoujfht 
I  would  drop;  little  Frank  lay  on  the  floor, 
the  blood  streanunff  from  him,  and  when  I 
screanu'd  and  tried  to  lift  him,  he  was  dead  ! 
Oh  !  yes,  doctor,  dead !  A  heart  of  stone  would 
tlien  i)ity  me;  I  must  have  fainted.  When 
I  i^ot  ai)le  to  move  about  aj;ain,  I  laid  the 
poor  child  on  the  bed,  and  i)Ut  a  covering 
over  him.  While  doing  this,  my  suspicions 
was  provoked;  I  thought  f>f  tlu;  wick(»d  girl, 
andof  iu'rbad  com])anion — Iguesscd  the  truth 
at  once!  I  thought  of  that  horrid  Bessy, 
and  of  the  vagabond  she  was  encouraging. 
I  saw  at  once  that  I  was  robbed;  and  while 
looking  here  and  there  in  tl'C  roum,  I  was. 
terrified  by  a  loud  scream.  I  ueard  a  noise 
or  struggle  in  Bessy's  room  ;  I  ran  in,  and 
there  she  lay  on  her  bed,  as  I- though.t,  in 
some  kind  of  fit.  She  was  foaming  at  the 
mouth  and  grasping  at  the  bed-clothes.  She 
had  taken  ])oison.  The  cup  was  on  the  ta- 
ble by  the  bedside,  and  there  was  sufficient 
left  in  it  to  satisfy  me  that  she  had  com- 
mitted a  double-murder— I  almost  felt  cer- 
tain of  this.  O  the  unfortunate  wretch!  I 
forgot  to  tell  you,  that  when  I  wi'ut  to  see 
Doctor  Buster  this  morning,  1  took  Alice  with 
me  to  see  her  father.  It  was  fortunate,  for  I 
am  sure  if  she  had  been  left  with  her  brother 
she  would,  no  doubt,  have  shared  his  fate. 
Wliat  a  providential  escape!  S'-e,  doctor,  I 
brought  this  paper  with  me,  "twas  on  tlie 
table  near  the  cup;  it  contains  the  remaina 
of  a  white  ])owd(!r — I'm  sure  'tis  arsenic.  Bes- 
sy was  dead  in  about  ten  minutes  after  I 
got  into  her  room;  I  tried  to  do  all  I  could 
to  save  her,  but  'twas  no  use.  AVluit  was 
I  then  to  do'?  I  did  not  want  to  alarm  the 
neighborhood.  I  fastened  the  door,  got  a 
cab,  and  drove  at  once  to  Doctor  Buster's. 
I  told  the  ]K)or  man  the  sad  story;  he  went 
almost  distracted,  God  help  him  I  he  tlid ; 
and  we  had,  of  course,  to  keet)  it  as  secret 
as  the  grave  from  poor  Alice;  she  is  very 
delicate,  and  such  horrid  news  might  bring 
her  to  death's  door.  I  gi>t  a  good  woman 
of  my  accpiaintance  to  remain  with  her,  and 
the  doctor  came  back  with  me.  lie  is  alone 
now  with  his  dead  child,  and  his  luuirt  is 
ready  to  break.  'Tis  a  dreadful  providence, 
Doct'cn-  Marks  ;  something  must  Ix^  done. 
Doctor  Buster  wants  to  see  you  at  (nice ;  he 
knows  you  can  feel  for  his  aHlicti(m." 

"  Tliis  is,  indetid,  dreadful,"  said  Doctor 
Marks.  "  Are  you  sure  tli(\v  are  dead  '!  Is  it 
not  possible  to  do  any  tiling  for  thiMn  ".'  I  ain 
sorry  you  did  not  run  here  for  me  at  once,  be- 
foreyim  went  for  Doctor  Buster ;  I  might  have 
been  in  time  even  then." 

"0(h)ctor!  I  was  so  distractf>d,  I'm  sure  I 
scarc(dy  knew  what  to  do.  They  were  dead — 
yes,  dead — before  I  hift,  and  I  thought  it  best 
to  tell  the  child's  father  at  (nice." 

"  Well,  well,  'ti-  a  sad  business,  Mrs.  Pink- 
ley.    I  can  do  but  little  now  to  lessen  the  grief 


tl 


I 


s  ■  -'I 


:'i:'i 


IK* 


'Ill 


t        '■■'i 


ii 


158 


EXETER    HALL. 


m 


S    1 


of  tliP  hrn-avi'd  father  ;  but  I  will  Hoe  him,  I 
will  do  what  I  din  ;  'tiH  a  Bad,  sad  atliiir  with 
his  (itluT  troubles." 

"  Very  sad,  doctor  ;  afflictions  soeni  to  follmv 
that  iMior  man — they  do  follow  (Jod's  iioopU!. 
'Twas  bud  cnou^rli  iM't'orc.  as  you  know,  now 
'tis  dtnth— and  such  a  death!  1  dread  to  gn 
nvAT  the  place  a^ain." 

"  I  can  understand  your  feelinfrs.  Were  it 
an  ordinary  visitation  of  Providence,  one 
mijjht  be  in*  a  lueasuro  prei)ared  ;  but  here  we 
have  sudden  deaths !  not  one  alone,  but  a  foul 
murder — a  suicide — a  double  calamity  !  Were 
it  even  sucii  as  could  only  atfe'ct  youi-selves,  it 
mi^ht  !)(■  more  easily  borne  ;  but  it  is  a  nuitter 
tJuit  can  not,  must  not,  be  kept  secret.  Tlie 
news  of  this  will  startle  the  whole  communi- 
ty. There  will  bo  comments  in  the  pa[)er8, 
vexatious  rumors  and  speculations,  the  public 
iij(iue.'<t,  and  the  harrowing  notoriety  which 
will  follow." 

•  Inquest!  The  word  darted  throufjli  her 
brain  like  fire.  She  never  tlu)ujjht  of  that 
horrid  ordeal.  The  room  commenced  to  turn 
round,  its  rotary  motion  increased,  her  sifjfht 
prew  dim,  and  she  would  have  fallen  from  her 
chair  were  it  not  for  the  prompt  assistance  of 
Doctor  Marks.  'J'he  man  outside  the  window 
still  listi'ued  ;  he  now  scarcely  moved,  and  he 
heard  every  word. 

"Did  you  eixy  'inqiiefit,'  doctor T*  said  she, 
striving  to  api)ear  calm;  "not  surely  an  in- 
quest Y  They  died  like  others — not  surely  an 
inquest,  iloctor?" 

"  This  outrajre  has  upset  you — no  wonder. 
It  woulil  require  stronij  nerves  and  a  wicked 
heart  to  renuiin  indifferent.  A  deed  of  blood 
has  been  committed,  an  inquest  is  indisi)ensa- 
ble.  You  would,  of  course,  be  anxious  to  dis- 
cover the  i)erjietrator." 

Tiie  res|)e('tal)le  dead  of  the  Ilrmie  liad  often 
been  delivered  to  mournin  relatives;  there 
was  nothinfir  secret  in  their  manner  of  removal, 
there  were  few  inquests  held  over  the  defunct 
o(  Doctor  Marks's  establislunent ;  they  were 
shrouded  and  cotiined  and  publicly  taken 
away,  and  no  one  cared  to  ask  a  (luestion. 
Mrs.  I'inkley  knew  this,  and  now  she  wanted 
her  dead  hurried  out.  What  did  she  care  in 
tliis  case  f(jr  Christian  burial  ?  There  were 
tlui  bodies,  dreadful  to  look  at ;  she  would 
readily  take  them  across  the  way,  and  thrust 
them  undertrround  by  the  side  of  dead  Jews. 
She  wanted  no  inquest,  and  her  charity  was 
sutficiently  expansive  at  the  time  even  to  for- 
give the  murde'vr. 

"  'Tis  bad  enough  as  it  is — what  good  will 
an  inquest  doV  Think  of  a  father's  feelings  ; 
but  you  know  best,  Doctor  Marks,  you  know 
best.  ^Ve  will  see  hiia  about  it,  let  us  be 
guided  l)y  what  he  says  ;  he  will  advise  for 
tlie  best,  if  he  can  advise  at  all  in  this 
extreniity." 

Mrs,.  Pinkley  began  to  pluck  up  her  latent 
cotirage  ;  she  had  been  taken  unawares — the 
ca.se  was  disspi-rate.  No ;  she  would  never 
flinch  now,  but  was  resolute  and  already  de- 
temiined  to  resort  to  a  desperate  remedy. 

Doctor  JIarks  at  once  prei)ared  to  go  out. 
Mrs.  Pinkley  left  the  room,  she  had  some 
instructions  to  give  to  the  attendants,  and 
would  be  back  in  a  few  minutes.      She  went 


into  an  adjoining  apartment,  whispered  to  a 
waiting-woman,  and  then  went  uji-stairs  to  her 
own  room.  The  keejjcr  sat  in  an  arm-chair, 
and  seem«'d  half  asleep  as  she  passed  tlirough 
the  long  hall ;  but  as  soon  as  lie  thought  she 
was  out  of  sight,  he  looked  sharply  around 
and  went  on  tip-toe  to  the  en«l  ot  tiuf  ui)l)er 
stairs  and  stopped  to  listen ;  when  Im  heard 
her  returning — she  remained  but  a  minute  or 
two — he  resumed  his  ])laco  in  the  chair,  and 
affected  to  be  startled  when  she  gently  tapped 
him  on  the  shoulder. 

"Oh!  is  that  you,  ma'am?  I  declare  I  didn't 
hear  you  ;  I — " 

"  Never  mind,  Sta]iles,  I  just  wanted  to  tell 
you  that  I  have  to  go  out  again  ;  the  doctor 
wants  me  to  attend  him  in  a  case  not  far  off; 
I  may  bo  away  an  hour  or  two.  The  i)a- 
tient  in  No.  19,  next  to  my  room,  is  very 
restless  tonight ;  she  is,  I'm  afeard,  sinking, 
and  I  want  you  to  remind  Mrs. .Jenkins  to 
attend  to  her  in  about  an  hour's  time,  jumc- 
tual.  'Tis  not  eleven  yet ;  you  stay  in  here 
until  the  doctor  returns — he  nuiy  be  back  be- 
fore me,  he  may  want  me  to  stay  out  longer 
for  ail  I  know.  '  Anyway,  Staples,  don't  for- 
get— I'll  be  back  as  soon  as  1  can — that's  a 
good  fellow." 

Just  as  she  was  about  to  leave  the  hall, 
plaintive  murmuring  was  heard  in  one  of  the 
rooms  ;  there  were  words  of  woe  and  desp<m- 
dency,  and  then  a  melancholy  voice  droned 
out : 

"  Behold  I  with  awftil  pomp. 
The  Judge  prepares  to  come. 
Th'  archanjiel  sound.s  the  dreadful  trump, 
And  wakes  the  general  doom." 

She  was  startled,  unusually  so  ;  her  natural 
firmness  seemed  to  have  been  a  little  bhaken 
at  the  moment ;  the  keeper  noticed  her  trej)i- 
dation,but  it  quickly  passed  ;  she  felt  slightly 
annoyed  at  her  own  weakness,  and,  as  she  left 
him,  her  thin  lips  were  compressed  and  her 
step  more  determined. 

When  she  went  down,  she  called  Mrs. 
Jenkins,  the  nurse,  into  a  kind  of  disi)ensing- 
room ;  there  were  shelves  at  one  end  and 
several  drawers  and  bottles  with  latinized 
labels ;  but  Mrs.  Pinkley  generally  extjrcised 
a  prudent  caution,  she  knew  nothing  of  Acet. 
Plumb.,  Ant.  Tart., liac.  Jump.,IIiid.  tyuhmur., 
Pulv.  Potaxs.,  or  Pil.  Hhei.;  and  was,  there- 
fore, careful  how  she  ventured  to  compound, 
lest  a  fatal  mistake  should  follow  through  her 
ignorance.  Sad  occurrences  of  this  nature 
often  took  place,  ^ho  knew  they  were  quite 
common  ;  but  as  she  was  known  to  ])e  extreme- 
ly ])articular,  and  very  cautious  about  touch- 
ing drugs,  she  was  trusted  in  this  respect 
more  than  any  other  person  in  the  establish- 
ment. There  were  a  few  simi)les,  however, 
which  she  could  venture  to  handle.  Dmtor 
Marks  liad  these  placed  so  as  to  be  within 
reach  at  any  time  ;  and  as  swiatives  were  often 
required,  she  as  often  pnspared  them  without 
reference  to  her  principal.  While  her  atten- 
dant was  engaged  at  a  little  distance,  Mrs. 
Pinkley  drew  from  her  bosom  a  snaill  pack- 
age, and  took  from  it  one  of  a  number  of 
small  papers  folded  up  like  those  continuing 
medical  powders  ;  she  then  emptied  a  f;^w 
graios  oi'  a  white  substance  into  a  buttlo. 


EXKTER    HALL. 


then  pnurrd  in  pome  wator,  adJctl  a  littlo 
colorintr,  nhudk  all  up,  and,  haviujr corked  the 
botth),  liandcd  it  to  the  woman. 

"You  S('(\  Nancy,  I  leaver  a  >rood  deal  to 
you  at  times.  I  told  the  doctor  that  I  liave 
great  conlidenco  in  you,  and  your  iillowance 
is  to  be  increitsed  from  the  Ix-jriiuiinj,''  of  next 
month  ;  lie  did  ho  on  my  recomnundation, 
and  I  can  do  more  for  you  yet.  I'm  sorrv  I 
have  to  po  out  ajjain;  I  want  you  to  look 
after  No.  1!),  jjivo  lier  thi.s  in  about  an 
hour's  time  ;  set>  that  she  takes  it — now  don't 
forget ;  here,  tatie  this  too."  And  she  handed 
Mrs.  Jenkins,  t!ie  nurse,  a  half  crown,  and  left 
a  sedative  for  one  ])atient  which  was  intended 
to  heal  mental  and  buddy  ailments  forever. 

While  Mrs.  I'iiikley  was  engaged  outside, 
Doctor  Marks  examined  the  contents  of  the 
Tiaper  which  slie  left  on  his  tabic;.  He  touched 
Lis  tongue  to  the  white  powder,  Ik;  then  ap- 
plied a  chemical  test,  and  was  satisfied  tliat 
arsenic  had  been  taken  or  adnunistered.  lie 
folded  up  tlu!  jiaper,  laid  it  carefully  in  a 
drawer  and  locked  it  up ;  but  ho  thought  it 
useless  to  prepare  an  antidote,  as  no  doid)t 
the  potent  poison  had  already  don(!  its  work. 

Mrs.  Pinkley  was  now  ready,  and  they 
went  away  together  to  the  liouse  of  death'; 
but  before  tlu^y  were  hidden  in  the  gloom  of 
the  dark  street,  they  were  watched  and 
followed  by  the  mau  who  Lad  been  looking 
in  at  the  window. 

The  largo  front  door  of  the  Home  was 
again  securely  bolted,  the  keeper  heard  their 
departure  ;  he  now  stootl  in  the  long  hall  close 
to  the  lamp,  and  was  examining  the  contents 
of  a  small  folded  paper  which  lie  had  ])icked 
up.  The  light  shone  full  upcm  his  face,  ilis 
]daying  sharp,  shrewd  features,  evidently 
thost!  of  an  aciive,  intelligent  man.  Having 
satisfied  himself  with  the  scrutiny,  he  put  tlu; 
paper  carefully  in  his  jiocket,  and'  went  (piick- 
ly  to  the  upp(>r  apartments.  Looking  closely 
into  a  little  recess  near  Mrs.  Pinkley 's  private 
room,  he  withdrew  a  key  ;  this  lieapi>iied  to 
the  lock  of  the  adj.iiuing  chamber,  the  bolt 
flew  back.  In;  moved  quietly  away,  and  in  a 
few  moments  the])atlent,  known  in  the  Home 
as  No.  IS),  stood  in  the  passage  ;  and  while 
there,  the  same  melancholy  voici;  which  was 
heard  almost  continually  recommenced  its 
doleful  iiloiidings  for  mercy.  In  the  dim 
light  she  lo<<ko(l  like  a  midnight  spectre.  She 
wore  the  dark  dr.^ss  allott(;d  to  the  female  pa- 
tieiitsof  Doct(<r  ^Marks's  establishment, her  hair 
was  partly  loose,  and  her  face  deadly  pale, 
while  her  faltering  step  indicated  greait  f(;el)le- 
ness.  She  h)ok(;d  anxiously  after  the  k(!eper, 
as  Hie  went  slowly  on  before  her,  and,  by 
placing  one  hand  against  the  wall,  she 
managed  to  follow  him  through  the  long 
hall,  then  slowly  down  a  back-stairs,  at  the 
foot  of  which  she  was  obliged  to  take  his 
arm,  and  in  a  few  steps  more  she  was  con- 
ducted into  the  private  reception-room  of  the 
Home. 

It  was  a  n(>at,  carpeted  apartment,  w»^ll- 
lighted  up.  Oh !  how  the  cheerful  fire,  the 
papered  walls,  the  pictures  and  polished 
furniture  reminded  her  of  a  home  now  almost 
rcniote  in  her  memory.  She  sat  uixm  a  sofa, 
a  dimness  grew    before  her  eyes,  and  she 


could  scarcely  see.  She  had  not  as  yet  per- 
ceived any  ixTson,  and  when  her  hand  waa 
gently  raised  from  where  it  hung  by  her 
side,  and  when  slu;  heard  the  mellow,  tremu- 
lous, sym])atliizing  voict;  of  a  fiieml — a  voice 
she  must  have  heard  iiefore — she  leaned  back 
and  sob!^e(l  iiitifiilly,  like  a  child ;  and  then, 
when  slu;  found  her  sight  restored,  and  when 
she  looked  jileiulingly  upward  anxious  to  dis- 
cover a  cominissioiiate  face,  Martin  Maniior^ 
stood  before  her  trying  to  hide  his  manly 
tears. 

"  Dear  lady,  how  I  have  pitied  you — how  I 
have  sought  after  you  for  dreary  nionths,  ))ut 
I  have  found  you  at  last.  What  a  gratifica- 
tion it  is  to  know  that  even  in  this  place,  even 
in  this  prison,  you  have  so  far  escaped  the 
designs  of  your  i>erse(!utors.  I  ain  indebtt*.! 
for  a  knowledgi;  of  your  existence  here,  and 
for  this  intervi(;w,  to  a  generous  friend  who 
has  devoted  his  time  and  his  means  for  the 
jiurpose  of  counteracting  the  vile  projei  ts  of 
an  inhuman  man.  You  have  had  a  sad  trial, 
yet  with  your  restoration  you  may  but  find 
another  grief.  Oh!  that  with  lilxTty  1  could 
bring  you  hap])y  tidings.  How  am  1  to  tell 
you  all  ?  Alas  !  I  may  but  darken  your  exis- 
tence, and  cause  you  to  wish  for  the  deep  sleep 
which  knows  no  waking.  But  still  you  must 
live ;  there  is  one  who  will  t  ill  hiok  iij)  to  y  «u 
and  call  you  'mother' — for  her  sake  youuiitst 
mak(;  an  ettbrt." 

"  For  7u'r  sake,  did  you  say  ?"  said  the 
startled  wcmian,  who  now  stood  up  and 
looked  with  intense  earnestness  into  the  face 
of  Mr.  Mannors,  "  for  her  sake  !  Ah  I  think, 
kind  friend,  there  are  two  pretty  ones.  Yes, 
I  will  live  for  my  children  !  Vov  lipr  sake, 
say  you"?  What  of  my  boy,  my  pretty  child 
— there  are  two,  kind  friend  —  what  of  my 
darling  boy?  Oh!  tell  me,  tell  me  all,  or  I 
will  go  mad  at  last."  Slie  seized  Mr.  Manuors 
by  the  ann  and  trembled  violently. 

"  Good  God !  you  make  no  rcjdy.  Heaven 
pity  me  now  I  O  my  child !  my  child !  my 
bo_v — can  it  be  this  at  last 't" 

"  I  do  pity  you,  poor  lady,  we  all  pity  j'ou  ; 
but  you  can  live  for  one — we  trust  that  one  is 
still  left." 

She  could  hear  no  more  ;  the  black  sliadows 
of  woe  gathered  ai'ound  hei%  and  she  was 
about  to  sink  in  a  swoon  before  him.  She 
was  just  able  to  exclaim,  "  Oh!  that  this  were 
death  !"  and  then  fell  heavily  at  his  feet.* 

"  Hark  !  she  i)rays  fox  deatli — he  is  near,  for 
here  is  his  messenger.  Come,  nurse,  grant  her 
recpiest." 

Mr.  Mannors  was  startled,  the  deep  stillness 
of  the  few  preceding  moments  totally  unpre- 
pared him  for  this  interruption.  He  turne<l 
around,  the  keeper  stood  looking  in  from  the 
door,  the  nurse  was  by  his  side,  and  she  held 
the  bottle  of  medicine  which  Mrs.  Pinkley 
left  with  her  to  be  administered.  The  woman 
seemed  rather  timid,  she  hesitated,  but  the 
keeper  was  urgent. 

"  Come,  nurse,  you  may  bo  too  late — I  was 
told  to  remind  you.  If  a  spark  of  life  ri;maius, 
you  have  that  which  will  do  death  good  ser- 
x-ice.    See,  we  brought  her  down  here  for  you ; 

*  See  Note  J. 


.■A 


i' 
,  1 


160 


EXETER    HALL. 


J*"? 


1      if-  '-1 


,:r^^ 


1^ 


r,  I 


!r  ;.'n^ 


'twill  sa\e  trouble — she  will  be  nearer  her 
grave.  Psl^a !  woman,  are  you  afear'd  ?  what 
will  Mrs.  Pinkley  say  ?"' 

The  v.onuxu  was  bewildered  ;  what  did  it 
all  nieuu  V  She  looked  from  one  to  the  other 
for  ar.  explanation ;  she  did  not  know  that 
there  was  u  stranjjer  in  the  house  at  that 
time  of  nioht,  ai^d  could  not  account  for  the 
Bcene  before  her.  Ju^",  lii'-ii  the  back  en- 
trance of  the  Jiouse  was  opened,  and  another 
stranf^er  entered — he  Vtus  a  stout,  ;>lain-look- 
ing  man.  Slie  began  to  grow  afraid,  and  lest 
the  bottle  should  fall  from  her  liana,  the 
keeper  tc-ok  it  from  h(  r.  The  person  who  l^ad 
last  come  in  was  Robert,  the  trusty  servant 
of  Mr.  Manners,  who  had  been  acting  as  a 
detective,  and  slie  felt  relieved  when  she  was 
called  to  assist  iu  placing  tlie  lady  upon  the 
'  sofa.  Restoratives  were  immediately  applied, 
and  while  the  poor  lady  still  seemed  in  a  kind 
of  8tui)or,  she  was  carefully  attended.  The 
mirse,  upon  being  questioned,  acknowledged 
that  Mrs.  Pinkley  had  given  her  the  bottle, 
that  she  had  mixed  the  medicine,  and  had 
cautioned  her  particularly  to  get  the  patient 
in  No.  19  to  take  it  as  a  draught  that  night. 
She  declared  that  she  did  not  know  herself 
what  the  bottle  contained,  only  that  she  was 
told  it  was  a  "  draught." 

"  'Twou'id  bo  a  final  draught,"  said  the 
keeper  ;  "  but  I  rather  guess  we'll  keep  it  for 
the  benefit  of  some  one  elise.  Now,  nurse.  I'm 
in  coniniand  here  at  present ;  I  want  you  to 
take  good  care  of  that  lady,  we  are  just  going 
to  the  doctor's  study  for  a  few  minutes  ;  I  will 
send  'n  one  of  the  other  women  to  stay  with 
you  ;  we  will  be  back  soon."  He  then  left  the 
room,  Mr.  Manners  and  Robert  followed,  bat 
he  was  cautious  to  lock  the  doors,  and  take  the 
keys,  so  tliat  none  could  find  egress  from  the 
establisliment. 

Ever  since  his  wife  had  been  placed  in  the 
Home,  it  was  the  custom  of  Mr.  Manners  to 
visit  the  asylum  about  once  every  week  ;  his 
daughter  and  Hannah  often  acconii)ani(,'d  him — 
eometimes  they  went  thereby  themselves  dur- 
ing tlie  intervening  time.  He  luid  this  day  paid 
liis  usual  visit ;  Robert  was  with  him,  and  he  re- 
mained in  conversation  with  the  doctor  longer 
than  he  generally  did  on  other  occasions.  He 
was  anxious  to  see  the  kteper-^he  did  not  let 
the  doctor  know  this — but  that  altendaut  had 
received  permission  to  go  out  that  evening, 
and  had  nut  yet  returned.  It  was  nearly  dark 
before  Mr.  Manners  left  the  ])hic(!,  and  they 
had  pi>ic(;e(h',d  but  a  short  distance  when  they 
met  Siiniucl  Styles,  the  very  person  for  whoiii 
they  had  been  waiting  at  the  Home.  He  had 
been  running  fast,  and  was  nearly  out  of 
breath.  He  looked  excited,  and  during  his: 
quick  respiration  he  hurriedly  communicated 
Bomethiug  which  seemed  to  affect  his  hearers 
and  to  decide  Mr.  Mannors  to  return  with  him 
at  once  to  the  Home. 

"  Uhe  is  away  now,  she  line  only  just  got 
there.  I  know  slu^'U  be  back  soon  for  the 
doctor — she  must  tell  hiui;  sin.-  won't  U\]\  tiu3 
detectives — but  I've  already  done  that  for  her, 
I've  just  Ihh'u  at  the  station — they've  scented 
blood  already.  I'll  just  run  ahead,  you  fol- 
low ;  I  can  let  you  in  privately,  and  we'll  boo 
■what  turns  up." 


It  must  have  occurred  to  the  reader  that 
Samuel  Styles  was  the  new  ke(!per  at  the 
Home.  From  the  moment  that  he  became  de- 
termined vT  counteract  and  expose  the  plans  of 
Doctor  Buster,  he  was,  to  use  his  own  word.s, 
"  continually  upon  his  track,"  and  he  spared 
neither  time  nor  pains  to  obtain  all  necessary 
information,  or  at  least  such  as  could  be  got 
by  the  most  artful  expedients.  Ry  means  of 
the  memorandum  which  Doctor  Buster  liad 
ca relet  -'y  I'^st,  together  with  the  advertisement 
taken  from  the  Times,  a  sufficient  cue  was  ob- 
tained to  lead  to  the  important  discovery  that 
the  moderator's  wife  was  immured  in  the  pri- 
vate ngylum  of  Dr.  Marks.  By  his  good 
address,  he  managed  to  secure  the  situation  of 
keeper  imder  the  name  of  Staples,  and  subse- 
quently, by  great  tact,  secured  the  high  opin- 
ion and  good-will  of  an  important  personage, 
Mrs.  Pinkley,  who  was  the  principal  female 
attendant  at  the  Home.  In  a  few  days,  with- 
out causing  the  least  suspicion,  he  learned  the 
ins  and  outs  of  the  whole  place.  Tlie  female 
patients  were  kept  in  the  upper  rooms;  he 
soon  discovered  the  occupant  of  No.  19,  and 
managed  to  establish  a  communicaticm  with 
her  by  which  she  was  encouraged  to  be  hope- 
ful, and  assured  her  that  she  had  one  watchful 
friend,  who  merely  waited  for  an  opportu- 
nity to  secure  her  freedom  and  punish  her 
oppressor.  Dr.  Marks  he  found  to  be  an 
easy-going  man,  considerate  enough  ;  but  Mrs. 
Pinkley  was  callous  and  indifferent  to  the 
sufferings  of  others,  particularly  to  those  of  her 
own  sex.  The  patient  in  No.  19  was  kept 
within  hearing  of  the  most  violent  lunatics, 
as  if  to  hurry  her  to  madness,  and  the  dreary 
wailings  of  Mrs.  Mannors  could  be  heard  by 
her  almost  continually  ;  in  fact,  h"alri'iidy  de- 
tected that  the  treatment  she  had  received 
was  specially  intended  to  shorten  her  exist- 
ence. 

Having  made  the  discovery  in  the  asylum, 
his  next  object  was  to  ascertain  whether  Doc- 
tor Buster's  children  were  in  the  actual  charge 
of  Mrs.  Pinkley.  According  to  his  engage- 
ment, however,  his  time  was  rather  limited  ; 
his  hours  of  duty  wen;  from  nine  o'clock  a.m. 
until  four  I'.AI.,  during  the  day,  and  fn  mi  six  r.M. 
until  midnight.  He  was  reipiired  to  confine 
himself  strictly  to  the  Home  during  the  night, 
bu*-  the  hf)ur8  between  four  and  six  in  the 
afternoon  might  be  spent  either  in  or  out  of 
the  jdace,  as  he  liked  ;  special  ptMinis^ion  was 
necessary  to  enable  him  to  leave  the  Home  at 
any  othertime.  Mrs.  Pinkley "s  residence  was 
but  a  short  distance  from  i\w  asylum  ;  through 
the  influence  of  Doctor  Buster,  she  had 
the  privilege  of  lodging  in  her  own  house 
after  a  certain  hour  at  night,  unless  some  ur- 
gent case  reipiired  her  attention.  Her  nightly 
absence,  however,  enabled  the  new  keeper  to 
make  his  most  important  diseoveit^  and 
often  after  midnight,  when  oft"  duty.ljistead 
of  seeking  repose,  he  would  steal  out,  C()ntrary 
to  ruli^J,  and  if  he  saw*  no  light,  or  heard  no 
sound  about  her  place,  he  wop.ld  listen,  to  try 
and  find  whether  Bhe8h'i)t,  anil  then  he  would 
speculate  upon  the  nature  of  her  dreams  ero 
he  returned  to  indulge  in  his  own. 

Anxious  to  gain  admittance  to  Mrs.  Pink- 
loy's  house,  ho  once  or  twice  succeeded  in  bo- 


ider  that 
?r  at  tlio 
;caiue  do- 
1  piling  of 
in  words, 
10  spared 
necessary 
Id  be  got 
means  of 
nster  liad 
•rtisement 
Hi  was  ob- 
ivery  that 
n  the  pri- 
his  good 
tnation  of 
nd  subse- 
ligh  opin- 
jersonage, 
lal  femiilo 
ays,  with- 
farnedtho 
ho  female 
ooms;  he 
().  19,  and 
ition  with 

0  be  hope- 
3  watchful 

1  opportu- 
lunish  her 

to  bo  an 
I ;  but  Mrs. 
3nt  to  the 
hose  of  her 
was  kept 
it  lunatics, 
the  dreary 

loard  by 
iidy  do- 
received 

ler  exist- 


EXETER  HALL. 


iln 


asylum, 
lei-  Doc- 

il  charge 
engage- 
limited  ; 

lock  AM. 

im  six  r.M. 

)  cunfine 

lie  niglit, 
X  in  tho 

or  out  of 

^♦sion  was 
Home  at 

h'uw.  was 

;  through 
slie    had 

vn  house 
some  ur- 

'!■  lUghtly 
kiH'per  to 
and 
tead 
,  ooTfitrary 
heard  no 
en,  to  try 
ho  would 
earns  ovo 

llrs.  Pink- 
led  in  be- 


coming tho  bearer  of  a  message  to  her  from 
Doctor  Marks  ;  but  though  she  did  not  mis- 
trust, she  was  very  guarded,  and  baffled  every 
eflfort  he  made  to  gain  admittance — she  was 
are  to  meet  him  at  the  door,  and  keep  him 
outside  until  she  sent  her  answer.  He  saw 
that  it  would  not  do  to  excite  her  suspicion  ; 
this  might  destroy  his  plans.  At  last,  it  struck 
him  that  by  watching  from  the  .Tewisli  ceme- 
tery opposite  her  house,  he  might  be  able  to 
discover  who  \vero  the  actual  members  of 
Mrs.  Pinkloy's  household,  and  ])erhaps  ascer- 
tain at  what  particular  time  Doctor  Buster 
paid  his  vibits. 

Day  after  day,  then,  the  keeper  visited  the 
cemetery,  and  faithfully  spent  Ids  two  leisure 
hours  watching  Mrs,  Pinkley's  house.  The 
door  was  always  kept  shut,  tho  lower  windows 
were  closely  screened,  and  the  ujiper  ones  liad 
half-curtains.  Once  when  she  was  out,  the 
upper  curtains  were  put  aside,  and  he  saw 
three  persons — Bessy  and  the  two  children. 
The  next  day  he  came  disguised  and  with  a 
basket  of  toys  ;  he  did  not  go  into  tlie  c(;me- 
tery,  but  loitered  at  a  corner  of  tlu?  street  until 
he  saw  Mrs.  Pinkloy  leave  the  house  ;  he  hur- 
ried to  the  door  and  rapped,  and  the  girl, 
thinking  that  her  mistress  had  perhaps  for- 
gotten something  and  had  returnee,  opened 
it ;  the  peddler  pushed  hii  way  in,  but,  as  the 
children  were  upstairs,  and  silent  as  usual,  he 
merely  asked  a  few  questions,  looked  sharply 
around  tlu?  ])lace,  and  then  left,  lest  by  some 
chance  he  might  bo  discovi?red. 

Lately,  liow<>ver,  he  had  not  seen  Doctor 
Buster.  What  could  have  dcitained  him  V 
Were  the  rumors  of  his  suspected  visits 
after  all  but  an  envious  scandal  V  Night  and 
day,  for  mon;  than  o  week,  ho  had  b(>en  closely 
watched,  but  so  far  his  shadow  had  nevt^r 
darkened  th(^  doorway.  The  kc^ejier  was  non- 
plussed. Was  ho  watched  himself?  and  had 
some  churchyard  imp  given  the  doctor  a 
timely  warning  ?  His  fears,  however,  were  in 
this  respect  ill-founded.  The  devoted  moder- 
Rt-^r  was  away  at  the  time,  ostensibly  upon  a 
visitation  to  certain  churches  or  congregations 
as  a  Y)oace-maker.  Sometimes  even  when; 
prayers  and  sermons  are  most  plenty  the 
enemy  of  souls  will  intrude,  and  children  of 
the  shrae  church  will  wrangle,  and  lamlis  of 
tlie  same  fold  will  lose  their  spirituality  and 
become  like  ravening  wolves,  nuvdy  to  devour 
each  other,  and  ])i()us  i>astors  will  desert  a 
congregation  for  one  more  deserving  of  their 
sympathies  ;  who  can  s.iy  whether  tin;  fn>sh 
"caU  "  is  so  ]>romptly  ans\V(MTd  because  a  sti- 
pend is  to  be  incroascid.  or  bi^cause  others  are 
in  greater  spiritual  destituti(m?  Anyway, 
tho  call  is  generally  answered,  old  ties  arc^ 
rudely  bundered,  piistors  often  leave  their  old 
flocks  to  take  euro  of  themselves,  and  the 
moderator  had  often  much  to  do  to  suppress 
schism,  to  kei^p  the  sheep  from  wandering 
away  into  oth(  r  folds,  and  to  reconcile  de 
sorted  sinners  t.)  their  temporary  abandon- 
ment. 

At  last  he  came!  The  koe])er  was  again 
In  tho  ciimetery.  it  was  a  glocmiy  evening  and 
drawing  toward  dusk.  He  saw  Doctor  Buster 
outer  th(!  house  ;  after  a  short  time  lie  heard 
a  Hcroam,  he  rushed  toward  the  place.    Mrs. 


Pinkley,  who  also  heard  the  scream,  had  just 
got  in  before  him,  and  in  her  alarm  neglected 
to  fasten  the  door.  He  followed,  he  heard 
her  reproaches,  and  witnessed  the  scene  of 
blf)od  which  sent  him  shuddering  away. 

It  was  long  past  midnight,  tho  afflicted 
lady  in  the  parlor  of  the  Home  still  lay  almost 
unconscious  upon  tho  sofa.  The  thr<>e  men 
yet  remained  in  Doctor  Marks's  study.  Samuel 
Stylos  had  given  Mr.  Mannors  a  full  accfuint 
of  iiow  he  had  acted  since  his  engagement  as 
keeper,  and  how  his  last  fortunate  discovery 
was  tho  attempt  to  administer  poison,  which 
Avas  to  have  been  made  that  night.  There 
was  the  bottle,  its  contents  could  be  easily 
tested,  and  there  was  the  additional  pa]ier  of 
white  powder  which  he  h:,;l  picked  up  in  the 
hall,  and  which  had  "leer  dropped  by  Mrs. 
Pinkley  at  the  time  he  v.>w  stnrtled  by  the 
premonitory  words  tu'  Mrs.  M^unors,  for  it 
was  she  who  spoka. 

The  relation  of  thopo  things,  tog(!ther  -with 
the  events  of  the  day,  had  a  saddening  effect 
upon  all,  and  now  thev  sit  demurely  in  the 
stillness  of  tho  night,  11.  loning  to  tho  bleak, 
wintry  winds  which  rush  and  moan  around 
the  building,  and  make  tho  long  poplars  sigh 
mournfully  in  the  desolate  cemetery.  Th(5y  are 
tiro  used!  Footsteps  and  voices  are  heard  at 
the  door,  the  night  bell  resounds  tlirougli  the 
silent  building.  They  enter — not  Doctor 
Ma'-ks  alone — Mrs.  Pinkley  with  droojied  head 
is  safely  escorted  by  two  detectives !  She 
enters  the  study,  and  stares  wildly  at  the  men 
who  are  there  to  meet  her.  They  look  at  her 
now  in  silence.  Ha!  she  knows  that  lace — 
'tis  tho  infidel '  She  turns  to  tlie  keeper,  slie 
frowns,  she  scowls,  her  hand  is  clinched,  and 
she  bites  her  lip.  Oh  !  could  she  but  force 
him  now  to  swallow  the  contents  of  that  bot- 
tle. But  ho  holds  it  out  at  arm's  length,  and 
exhibits  the  paper  of  poison.  '"  See,"  ho  ex- 
claims, "  she  is  saved  !" 

"  Saved  !"  She  stt/od  i^rect  before  him  as  if 
suddenly  petrified.  A  deadly  pallor  ovor- 
sjiread  her  face.  "  SaV(;d !"  She  was  j^tow- 
ing  very  faint.  Was  .he  lost  herself?  She 
revived  again,  and  her  hopeles.s,  wandering 
gaze  rested  upon  Mr.  Mannors.  "  Yes,  'tis 
but,  :in  infidel  plot — I  see  it  all  now — a  vile 
jilot,  Doctor  Marks,  an  infamous  He.  But  I 
am  weary,  and  'tis  very  late.  Let  me  i-st 
here  to-night,  let  me  think,  and  I  will  pros  ,t 
all  tit-morrow." 

Tlu!  gray  dawn  of  the  wintry  morning 
stoh;  in  through  the  curtained  window  of  a 
small  ujiper  room  in  tire  Homo,  and,  as  the 
light  slowly  increased  and  struggled  for  ad 
mittauce,  tho  <lim  outlines  of  a  cliair,  a  table, 
and  a  bedst(\ad  could  just  be  discovered 
Every  thing  was  still ;  a.nd,  as  tho  light  grow 
stronger,  an  emptv  cup  c/uld  l)o  setni  on  tho 
table  and  the  muffled  fonii  of  a  w(!aried  sloepei 
on  the  bed.  But  now  tlio  stilmc^ss  is  broken, 
and  a  voice  at  a  sl\ort  distance  wails  out, "  Lost, 
lost,  lost."  It  is  nuiet  again,  and  not  the 
faiut(\st  sound  of  breathing  can  bo  lioard. 
What  a  lethargy !  Even  tho  drowsy  watcher 
outside  tho  rormi  door  is  listening  to  tho  silence. 
Still  tho  torpid  form  lies  stretched  upim  the 
bed — it  never  mov(>s — its  last  breath  has  boon 
drawn.    Ah !  how  hud  death  entered  ?    The 


m 


EXETER   HALL. 


'■  i: 


.M 


m 


M  \ 


''  ^^:t 


fatal  draught  had  at  last  been  given !  and — 
Mrs.  Pinklcy  had  made  her  escape. 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

There  wag  to  be  a  public  inquest  at  the 
Home !  one  unlike  any  that  had  ever  taken 
place  there  before.    A  posse  of  ignorart  ju- 
rors would  soon  be  assembled ;  they  might 
take  it  into  their  heads  to  extend  their  judi- 
cial privileges,  and  to  go  tramping  tlirough 
the  wliole  place,  causing  confusion  ;  and  after 
that,  their  blundering  verdict  might  bring  fi- 
nancial ruin  upon  the  entire  establisliment. 
It  was  very  provoking  to  one  of  Doctor  Marks's 
staid    and    precise    respectability.     He  was 
very  mucli  agitated,  he  felt  himsclt  singular- 
ly compromised,  and  that  his  position  W(juld 
be  considered  rather  questionable.     He  was 
already  conscience-striclien.   Danger  seemed  to 
be  looming  up  around  him.     Was  he  not  lia- 
ble to  be  accused  as  being  au  accomplice  in  a 
shameful  system  of  persecution  toward  one 
who  had  been  placed  in  his  power?     Would 
.he  not  be  looked  upon  as  one  so  thoroughly 
ibase,  as  to  have  acted  in  cooperation  with  a 
'heartless,  infamous  woman,  in  order  to  carry 
'  Gilt  an  inhuman  design,  or  for  the  sake  of  the 
paltry  sum  which  was  to  be  the  reward  of 
•systematic  cruelty  ?    Friends  of  the  ])atients, 
and  other  persons  who  had  already  called  and 
obtained   admission  that  morning  were,  he 
thought,  rather  shy  toward  him  ;  and,  as  he 
went  about  from  place  to  place,  ho  was  fol- 
lowed by  curious  eyes,  and   in  imagination 
public  curiosity  seemed  to  be  already  drifting 
into  public  suspicion.    In  this  trying  time,  he 
had  scarcely  a  single  friend  in  wli')m  he  could 
confide,  and  he  was  obliged  to  assume  a  calm 
demeanor  while  he  was  agitated  by  wild  and 
conflicting  emotions.    Oh  !  how  he  could  have 
cursed    his  own    pliability  and  that  clerical 
impostor  whose  specious  piety  had  lured  him 
into  this  vortex  of  trouble.     He  was  very  anx- 
ious ;  as  yet  there  was  no  accusatior  made 
against  him,  l)ut  he  felt  every  moment  as  if 
the  hand  of  justice  was  about  to  be  laid  on 
his  shoulder.     What   if  some  vile  endeavor 
should  be  made  to  blast  his  prosjiects  ?    What 
if  his  patients  should  see  that  stitl'encd  body 
lying  in   the  hall,  and  should   get   startltid 
back  to  sanity  at  the  night  of  its  distorted  fea 
tures?    There  was  trouble  on  every  side,  and 
his  hopes,  and  his  honor,  and  his  respectabili- 
ty  seemed   to   have  almost   withered   away. 
The  t((rrible  news  of  the  murder  and  i)()ison- 
ingof  the  jirevious  evening  hud  been  hru'd 
all  over  the  city,  an*d  early  i.i  thii  day  a  crowd 
of  i(ll(!   persons   had   assembled  outside  the 
Home,  in   ex]M!ctath)n  of  being  able   to  get 
a  chance  sight  of  the  notcil  woiuan  who  was 
suppohcd    to    be    the    ui'cuniplici;    of    Doctor 
Buster,  if    not,  indeed,  the  very  ])rincipiil   in 
the  horrid  crimi!  which  hud  Ix'en  coinniitted. 
Alnsatly  several  i)alliuting  ciriuunstances  and 
many  excuses  were  framed  in  beleilf  of  tii(> 
reverend  moderator  ;   and  a  number  of  sturdy 
Christians  were  (juite  jjrepariMl  to  assert  tluvt 
Doctor  Buster  could  not  possibly  be  guilty  of 


a  crime,  but  that  it  was  a  deep-laid  plot,  an 
infidel  design,  against  a  well-known  servant 
of  the  Lord.  The  blind  confidence  of  the  pi- 
ous woidd  not  be  easily  shaken,  and  soon  as 
the  religious  papers  made  their  appearance 
they  would  defend  him  in  thunder  tones  and 
hurl  defiance  at  his  accusers.  Large  bail  was 
promptly  tendered,  and  he  was  still  at  liberty. 

Any  way,  there  was  to  be  a  j  udicial  exa- 
mination. Mrs.  Plnkley,  and  Doctor  Buster, 
and  Samuel  Styles,  and  otliers  would  be 
brought  fiice  to  face  at  the  police  court.  It 
would  be  a  feast  for  tlie  press,  and  reporters 
made  early  preparations  so  as  to  be  able  to 
send  full  accounts  to  their  respective  papers. 
Doctor  Marks  had  pledged  himself  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  Mrs.  Pinkley  before  the  magistrates 
or  at  an  inquest,  and  as  a  matter  of  greater 
security,  two  detectives  wore  to  have  her  un- 
der surveillance  ;  she  should  get  no  chance  to 
slip  away.  The  investigation  was  to  take  place 
in  the  forenoon,  and  other  officers  of  j  ustice  had 
already  arrived  at  the  Home  for  the  "purpose  of 
procuring  certain  witnesses  and  to  conduct 
the  accused  to  the  legal  tribunal. 

Tliey  had  been  waiting  there  for  some  time, 
the  hours  passed  quickly  ;  punctuality  was  ne- 
cessary, and  there  could  not  be  much  further 
delay.  It  was,  however,  very  late  when  the 
accused  woman  liad  been  ])ermitted  to  retire  ; 
no  doubt  she  had  great  need  of  rest — that  is,  if 
repose  were  possible  to  one  in  her  position. 
The  detectives  watched  in  turn  outside  her 
room  during  the  night.  It  was  now  nine 
in  the  morning,  and  she  had  not  yet  made  her 
appearance,  neither  could  the  officer  who  kept 
watch  at  the  time  hear  the  least  sound  of  pre- 
paration. Excitement,  shame,  and  mortifica- 
tion must  have  kept  her  awake  during  the 
night,  and  heavy  sleep  must  have  at  last  over- 
powered her.  But  justice  could  not  wait — it 
is  a  petulant  thing.  Minos  or  Hadamanthus 
would  brook  no  delay.  Ate  stood  claiming  re- 
tribution, and  should  she  not  have  it  ? 

Is  not  the  justice  of  Christian  civilization 
more  rigid  in  its  demands  ?  It  is  ever  eager 
for  its  prey,  it  is  righteous  ;  vengeance  is  its 
handmaid,  and  reformation  is  but  a  step- 
daughter which  it  elbows  aside  to  be  nurtureil 
by  visionary  philantrhopists.  It  must  feel  no 
l)ity — tears  can  not  attect  its  purity  ;  they  may 
drop  unheeded  forever  upon  its  marble  bosom  ; 
the  quality  of  mercy  might  be  degrading  to 
its  dignity.  It  must  have  no  human  sympa- 
thies. It  frowns  upon  the  wretched  culprit  in 
the  dungeon  ;  and  when  its  decret!  has  gout; 
forth,  when  even  hifinnn  life  is  the  sacrifice  to 
be  laid  upon  its  altar,  it  will  nut  waver.  It 
can  heed  no  natural  emotion,  but  it  will  stalk 
away  from  the  scatlbld  with  haughty  tread, 
severe  brow,  and  fingers  drii)i»ing  in  gore" — 
for,  alas  !  is  it  not  more  nol)le  than  huniiuiity'? 
Ah  I  who  is  to  arraign  justice  for  its  cruelties? 
Who  is  to  blot  out  its  texts  and  statutes  of 
l>]ood?  Who  is  to  stop  its  legalized  atroci- 
ties forever  ? 

As  yet,  there  was  no  stir  in  Mrs.  Pinkley's 
room ;  the  detectives  rapped — there  was  fi  ) 
reply.  A  \yoman  was  sent  for  to  deujnjid 
iulmittanc(i  and  to  hurry  her  (mt  ;  nnd 
though  the  womau  rapped  and  cilh-d  lur<iily 
and  long  enough,  still  ao  answer  camo  ;  the 


m 


EXETER    HALL. 


168 


lid  plot,  an 
wn  servant 

0  of  tho  pi- 
nd  soon  aa 
appearance 
r  tones  and 
ge  bail  was 

1  at  liberty, 
idicial  exa- 
ctor Buster, 

would  be 
3  court.  It 
id  reporters 

be  able  to 
tive  papers, 
f  for  the  ap- 
maofistrates 
r  of  greater 
ave  her  ur- 
lo  chance  to 
to  take  place 
f  j  ustico  had 
c  purpose  of 

to  conduct 

(r  some  time, 
ality  was  ne- 
luch  further 
to  when  the 
x'd  to  retire ; 
?t — that  is,  if 
lior  position, 
outside  her 
18  now  nine 
yet  made  her 
per  who  kept 
3()uiid  of  pre- 
ud  mortitica- 
5  during  the 
i  at  lastover- 
not  wait — it 
adamanthua 
daiming  re- 
■e  it  -i 

civilization 
lis  ever  eager 
Igeance  is  its 
l)ut   a   step- 
1)0  nurtured 
must  feel  no 
y  ;  they  may 
Vble  bosom  ; 
h'gniding  to 
jnuiu  sympa- 
leil  culprit  in 
•ce  hiis  gtine 
|e  sacritice  to 
waver.     It 
it  will  stalk 
iglity  tread, 
>•  in  g(n'0' — 
|i  luiniiuiity? 
,ts  cvui'lties'?^ 
stilt  utcs  of 
li/,oil  atroci- 

i-s.  Pinkley'H 

liero  wart   n  > 

to   deiHiuid 

<mt  ;    and 

,l!ed  iuf*tily 

Ir  came  ;  the 


sleeper  was  not  aroused,  and,  after  many  other 
unsuccessful  attempts  had  been  made,  tlie  of- 
ficers grew  impatient  and  suspicious,  the  door 
was  burst  open,  and  when  the  nurse  entered 
and  uncovered  tho  sleeper's  face  she  started 
back  in  aft'right — behold,  Mrs.  Pinkley  was 
dead! 

The  discovery  was  quite  shocking ;  the  ex- 
citement throughout  the  place  was  very  great. 
Those  who  had  assembled  outside  the  house 
were  much  disappointed ;  they  became  clam- 
orous and  unruly,  and  tried  to  gain  admission  ; 
they  were  anxious  to  see  the  Jezebel  living 
or  dead,  and  when  they  could  not  succeed  in 
effecting  an  entrance,  they  muttered  curses 
against  her  who  had  eluded  justice. 

Doctor  Marks  was  agitated,  the  keeper 
seemed  confounded,  and  maids,  nurses,  and 
attendants  appeared  frightened  or  bewildered. 
There  were  ominous  whispers  among  visitors  ; 
there  were  strange  preparations  ;  tho  frown- 
ing corpse  was  stretched  out  in  the  long  hall — 
it  did  not  receive  tender  handling — there  was 
no  solemnity.  The  curious  gazed  with  unfeel- 
ing eye,  tho  timid  stood  aloof,  and,  while  it 
lay  uncared  for  in  the  glof)m,  messengers  were 
dispatched  for  the  coroner. 

In  consequence  of  this  unexpected  act  in 
the  drama,  the  magistrates  who  had  as- 
•sembled  in  order  to  hold  a  preliminary  exam- 
ination had  to  adjourn.  Three  inquests  were 
to  be  held  that  day,  and  Doctor  Buster  might 
perhapa  be  able  to  have  another  day  or  two  to 
prepare  his  defense,  and  to  bless  and  pray  for 
his  sympathizing  friends.  They  came  in  a 
little  crowd ;  he  was  again  in  the  pleasant 
parh)r  of  his  reverend  friend,  Mr.  Campbell, 
and,  though  he  was  but  slightly  flushed, 
and  to  all  appearance  perfectly  resigned 
to  meet  what  certain  pillars  of  the  church 
called  his  fresh  ordeal  of  persecution,  those 
,only  who  looked  at  him  sharply  could  dc!tect 
tlie  traces  of  great  anxiety  which  were  visible 
on  his  countenance.  But  he  mauiiged, 
however,  to  receivt^  th(!  numerous  visits  of 
clerical  ai  1  legal  friends,  and  to  snule.benig- 
nantly  upnu  dowagers,  si)insters,  and  otluT 
sigliiug  sisters  who  came  to  profter  their  stock 
of  pious  sympathy. 

Yet  all  this  could  not  last,  he  was  again 
alone.  He  said  he  needed  a  littlt;  rest,  and  so 
lie  did  ;  but  when  alone,  then  came  his  brood- 
ing thoughts,  tlu!  most  cheerless  and  harass- 
ing of  all  intrud(>rs.  What  dire  di'spoiulency 
they  l)rought !  Could  it  l)e  that  sh"  with 
whom  he  had  so  cheerFully  conversed  the 
previous  day,  before  whom  he  had  laid  liis 
future  plans,  was  already  a  suicide,  lying 
perhaps  at  that  very  moment  under  tlie  cold 
gaze  of  an  investigating  jury  'i  Oh  !  that  un- 
fortunate blow  ;  and  as  lie  looked  down  at  his 
right  hand,  he  could  have  wished  it  witliered 
frmii  Ills  arm.  Si  ill  he  felt  but  little  renior:je 
for  the  death  ol  his  child,  but  he  i'elt  a  deep 
dread  of  liopeless  loneliness.  His  mainstay 
had  been  cut  down.  Within  the  short  period 
of  one  wintry  day.  his  future  had  been  blasted, 
and  his  shrewd,  luiprinciph'd,  courageous  con- 
fident had  been  balluHl.  Imttled,  overreached, 
and  driven  to  destruction.  And  «hen  he 
then  almost  met  tho  calm,  defiant  look  of 
Martin  Mannor.^.  and  almost  heard  the  re- 
proaciies  of  his  outraged  wife,  and  when  in 


the  terror  of  imagination  he  beheld  tho  ])ros- 
trate  form  of  his  paramour,  and  saw  the  fixed 
stare  of  her  sightless  eyes,  and  saw  her 
clenched  hands,  compressed  lips,  and  distorted 
features,  the  very  shadow  of  death  seemed  to 
encompass  him — he  shrunk  and  crouched  in 
horror  and  dismay,  and  wished  for  sudden 
annihilation. 

An  hour  of  misery  had  passed — how  he 
dreaded  the  future!  He  could  find  no  rest. 
Were  he  only  secure  of  being  left  alone,  and 
within  reach  of  some  strong  opiate,  ho 
might  bo  tempted  to  follow  her  who  ,had 
proved  so  resolute  in  self-destruction.  Even 
then  he  admired  her  infamous  courage — con- 
rage  which  his  overbearing  disposition  could 
not,  however,  equal.  She,  in  possession  of  her 
faculties,  took  the  desperate  plunge  when  she 
saw  no  chance  of  escape.  He  might  be  aroused 
to  do  so  were  his  senses  sufficiently  blunted, 
and  were  he  satisfied  that  his  infamy  was 
about  to  be  detected  and  exposed.  Still  his 
love  of  life  was  strong ;  as  yet  he  stood  fair  in 
the  eyes  of  many — he  was  one  of  God's  minis- 
ters—  and  many  scoffed  at  the  accusation. 
They  demanded  proof — where  was  the  evi- 
dence ?  It  was  but  an  infamous  plot — they 
dreaded  no  investigation. 

But  the  doctor  did  dread  such  a  proceeding ; 
it  could  not  be  now  avoided.     He  was  still  in 
deep  thought ;  there  was  a  faint  ray  of  hope, 
and  he  clung  to  this  like  a  drowning  mariner 
to  a  plank.     "  What  is  the  evidence  ?  who  is 
to  prove  against  me?      The  lunnpback  alone 
saw  the   blow,  but  her  account   is    settled. 
Poor  Fan  did  not  see  me,  but  she  knew  all — 
she  too  is  beyond  their  reach.     Then  who  is 
to  j)roveV    Law  is  law,  they  must  convict 
legally.     A  man's  life  should  not  hang  upon 
mere  circumstantial  evidence.     Who  is  to  tes- 
tify ?"     He  pondered  for  a  few  moments  ;  his 
emotions  of  hope  and  fear  quickly  came  and 
went,  bringing  assurance  or  despondency,  and 
were  as  visible  on  his  face  as  freaks  of  light- 
ning across  a  thundercloud  in  the  darkness  of 
midnight.     But  suddenly  the  mental  illusion 
disappeared  ;  his  hopes  again  seemed  pros- 
trated.    Was  there  not  another  present  when 
the  blow  was  struck'?    Had  not  Alice  seen 
all  ?    Would  it  not  be  dreadful  were  his  own 
child  obliged  to  speak  in   evidence  against 
him '?     He  was  struggling  again  with  despair, 
and  he   almost   writhed   in   mental   torture. 
Yet  oncti  more  there  came  a  flickering  of  hope. 
He  started — whei-e  was  Alice'?    In  the  midst 
of  his  own  troubles,  he  had  never  given  her  a 
tliought !     Where  was  she '?  he  felt  but  litC'^ 
doubt  of  her  safety,  but  could  she  not  be  put 
beyond  thi^  reach  of  his  ferocious  inquisitors? 
Could  she  not  be  tutored  lo  lie — to  deny  all 
knowledge  of  the  fatal  blow  ?     Could  .?h"  not 
be  sent  away,  or  confined,  or  any  thirg— ho 
did  not  care  what,  so  as  she  could  be  kept  out 
of  sight '!     Ay,  in  this  despt'rate  case,  and  in 
his  present  mood,  he  wouhl  not  objer't  to  liava 
j  her  strangled,  were  he  only  able  to  find  an 
accomi)lice  ;  but  the  trusty  hand  that  might 
have  lent  him  ready  aid  was  now  powerless 
forever. 

The  accused  man  was  in  nn  extremity  ;  time 

was  i)re8sing,  he  would  bo  obliged  to  appear 

'  that  afternoon  or  early  next  day  at  the  in- 

'  quest  which  was  lo  bo  held  over  tho  body  of 


164 


EXETER    HALL. 


I.: 


frM; 


his  own  son  and  also  over  that  of  the  poor 
humpbacked  girl.  The  sudden  death  of  Mrs. 
Pinkley  had  caused  delay.  Fortunately,  he 
•was  not  required  to  appear  at  the  asylum; 
but  no  plea  of  indisposition,  nor  any  other 
plea  whatever  could  save  him  from  a  horrid 
notoriety ;  he  would  be  forced  to  attend,  ho 
would  have  to  view  the  remains  of  his  dead 
child,  and  to  meet  his  accusers  face  to  face. 
Sti]l  he  could  do  all  this,  he  could  view  his 
bloody  work  without  a  shudder  ;  yes,  he  could 
go  and  boldly  defy  all,  could  he  but  get  Alice 
out'of  the  way  ;  that  girl  shoiild  he  disposed 
of,  and  it  should  be  done  at  once. 

She  must  be  found,  no  matter  when,  or 
where,  or  how.  Caution  required,  however, 
that  he  should  not  appear  too  anxious  con- 
cerning this  matter  before  others.  Then  whom 
could  he  trust  ?  Where  could  he  get  one  to 
be  faithful  and  to  do  his  bidding?  He  would 
pay  a  princely  price  for  the  work  ;  ho  had 
ample  funds,  for  on  the  previous  day,  antici- 
pating the  happy  flight  he  expected  to  take 
with  Mrs.  Pinkley,  he  drew  a  thousand 
pounds  upon  the  indorsement  of  the  Rev.  An- 
drew Campbell.  With  a  full  purse  and  a 
willing  agent,  he  ought  to  be  able  to  do  much  ; 
where  could  he  find  the  right  person  ?  Stay  ! 
he  feels  relieved,  he  has  been  trying  to  think 
who  among  the  faithful  was  worthy  of  his 
confidonce  at  this  critical  time — he  feels  again 
assured.  Tliere  is  anotlier  gleam  of  hope,  he 
lias  hit  upon  the  right  one — he  has  found  an 
ally    he  would  send  at  once  for  Bross. 

The  inquest  at  the  Home  was  over  ;  it  was  a 
tedious  post-mortem  case,  but,  after  all,  the 
jurors  had  not  much  to  do.  The  evidence  was 
direct,  and  went  to  prove  that  the  late  princi- 
pal female  attendant  of  the  Home  had  retired 
at  a  certain  hour  on  the  previous  night  ap- 
parently in  good  health,  it  might  be  a  little 
weak  or  fatigued,  and  that  in  the  morning  ahe 
liad  boon  found  de  1  in  her  bed.  It  was  i)roved 
that  the  cup  found  upon  her  table  contained 
arsenical  sediment,  that  she  had  taken  such 
poison,  and  that  several  small  j)apers  of  the 
same  substance  had  been  found  in  a  private 
drawer  in  her  room.  Every  thing  went  to 
prove  an  evil  intention  on  her  part.  Her  de- 
sign upon  tl^f  life  of  a  female  patient  in  the 
asylum  was  made  manifest.  It  was  tliere- 
foro  believed  that  she  had  taken  poison  to  es- 
cape the  legal  penalty  for  murder ;  the  verdict 
■was  in  accordance,  and  in  the  eyes  of  many 
the  case  looked  brighter  for  Doctor  Buster. 

There  were  loiterers  around  another  door ! 
How  gloomy  the  place  seemed  I  It  might 
have  been  caused  by  the  cold  shadows  of  the 
tall,  leafless  trees  in  the  cemetery  across  the 
way.  It  was  chilly,  and  the  wintry  wind  howl- 
ed mournfully  through  the  branches.  Look 
in  !  There  they  still  lay — the  boy  in  his  gore, 
and  the  poor  girl  with  a  placid  smile  on  her 
worn  features,  but  stamped  there  in  the  marble 
rigidity  of  death.  Her  untold,  her  unpitied 
sufferings  had  ceased,  and  her  little  term  of 
patient  endurance  had  endtnl.  There  were 
sighs  of  rciil  ])ity  ;  many  of  the  strong  men 
who  stood  silently  around  could  have  sIumI 
honest  tears ;  and  there  were  womc'u  present 
— pious  ones,  too — who  could  have  prayed,  but 
to    what    purpose?     They    might  pray,   it 


would  bo  but  a  formal  riuttcr'ng.  Prayer 
without  faith,  like  a  body  without  a  soul, 
would  be  dead.  In  these  latter  days,  when 
organizations  for  prayer  are  so  numerous,  pe- 
titions may  constantly  ascend,  but  the  most  or- 
thodox never  hope  for  a  notable  miracle.  The 
dead  may  bo  raised  at  the  general  judgment, 
but  not  sooner.  The  inspired  word  might  be 
true,  and  its  promises  very  cheerful  and  con- 
soling, but,  alas !  these  promises  may  be  now 
read  by  the  most  confident  Christian,  and  there 
is  still  a  sad' lack  of  faith.  Of  what  avail  are 
those  which  eay,  "  Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that 
whosoever  shall  say  unto  this  mountain.  Be 
thou  removed  and  bo  thou  cast  into  the  s(;a, 
and  shall  not  doubt  in  his  heart,  but  shall  be- 
lieve that  those  things  which  he  saith  shall 
come  to  pass,  he  shall  have  whatsoever  he 
saith.  Tliertifore  I  say  unto  you,  What  tlungs 
soever  ye  desire  when  ye  pray,  believe  that  yo 
receive  them,  and  ye  shall  have  them." 
Mark  11  :  23,  24. 

"  These  signs  shall  folloAV  them  that  be- 
lieve :  In  my  name  shall  they  cast  out  devils  ; 
they  shall  speak  with  new  tongues ;  they 
shall  take  up  serpents;  and  if  they  drink  any 
deadly  thing,  it  sliall  not  hurt  them  ;  they 
shall  lay  hands  on  the  sick,  and  they  shall 
recover."    Mark  16  :  17,  18. 

"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you.  He  that 
believeth  on  me,  the  works  that  I  do  shall  he 
do  also  :  and  greater  iw/'A'sthan  these  shall  he 
do,  because  I  go  unto  my  Father — and  what- 
soever ye  shall  ask  in  mv  name,  that  I  will  do." 
John  14 :  12,  13.  ^ 

"  If  two  of  you  shall  agree  on  earth  as  touch- 
ing any  thing  that  they  shall  ask,  it  shall  be 
done  for  them  of  my  Father  which  is  in 
heaven."     Matt.  18 :  19. 

It  is  asserted  that  these  and  other  scriptural 
promises  are  apidicable  for  all  time.  VVliero 
are  the  true  believers  V  Where  are  they,  even 
among  the  earthly  sanctified,  who  can  truly 
accept  these  promises,  whose  faith  in  them 
never  falters?  The  lip  may  utter  its  pray(;r, 
yet  the  lieart  has  no  hope.  The  inspired 
promises  may  be  read,  but  the  church  must 
have  degenerated.  Our  Israel  has  not  the 
faith  of  the  ancient  saints.  At  the  present 
day,  faith  will  neither  walk  upon  the  water, 
remove  the  mountain,  nor  raise  the  dead. 
Lazarus  might  have  been  called  from  the 
tomb ;  Jairus  might  have  had  his  little 
daughter  restored  ;  the  widow  of  Nain  might 
have  been  weeping  near  the  city  gate,  and 
following  in  the  mournful  i)roces8ion  which 
bore  her  only  son  to  the  grave ;  her  sobs 
might  liave  suddenly  ceased,  and  she  might 
have  been  permitted  to  clasp  his  living  form 
once  more  to  her  bosom.  He  who  is  t<uid  to 
have  done  these  works  also  said  to  his  dis- 
ciples, that  those  who  had  faith  in  him  should 
perfi)rm  greater.  Has  that  word  lost  its 
power,  or  is  faith  in  it  merely  theoretical  ? 
Who  now  can  raise  the  dt'ad? — There  they 
lie  I  let  the  miracle  be  performed.  See  that 
girl  !  bring  back  the  smile  again  to  her  wan 
face,  and  let  the  pulsations  of  her  loving 
heart  return.  Bcianimate  that  little  form,  and 
give  back  the  boy  to  his  wf^eping  motlier. 
Alas!  they  move  not!  Of  what  worth  are 
these  assurances?  to  what  intent?    Neither 


EXETER   HALL. 


1C5 


f.    Prayer 
nt  a  soul, 
Liya,  when 
lerous,  pe- 
je  moat  or- 
acle.   The 
judjjment, 
I  niijjht  bo 
1  and  con- 
ivy  be  now 
,  and  there 
t  avail  are 
oyou,  that 
mntaiu.  Be 
to  the  BOft, 
t  shall  be- 
saith  shall 
.tsoover  he 
/'hat  things 
eve  that yo 
ive   them." 

n  that  be- 
out  devils ; 
gues ;  they 
r  drink  any 
hem ;  they 
they  shall 

Li.  He  that 
do  shall  he 
lese  shall  he 
—and  wliat- 
it  I  will  do." 

th  as  touch - 
,  it  shall  be 
irhich  is  in 

3r  scriptural 
lie.  Where 
e  they, even 

0  can  truly 
th  in  them 

its  praycsr, 
ho  inspired 
III  roll  must 
as  not  the 
the  present 

1  the  water, 
the   dead. 

1  from  the 
his    little 
ain  might 
[v  gate,  and 
ision  wliicli 
;   her   sobs 
sht'  might 
iving  form 
is  naid  to 
to  his  dis- 
him  should 
l)rd   lost   its 
Lhcoretical  'I 
[TlH.'ro  they 
8tH!  that 
,o  her  wan 
her   loving 
|le  form,  and 
g  motlier. 
wortli   are 
V    Neither 


promise,  nor  prayer,  nor  faith  hath  power  to 
do  this  thing!  Even  those  who  still  cling  to 
belief  hope  not  for  a  miracle,  neither  for  the 
restoration  of  such  as  these.  Their  faith  may 
be  "  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evi- 
dence of  things  not  seen  ;"  yet  though  they  ac- 
knowledge no  existing  doubt,  they  must  feel 
content  to  wait  for  the  actual  evidence  until 
the  "  last  great  day." 

All  w(?re  in  waiting.  Doctor  Buster  came 
with  rather  reluctant  steps.  The  minister  of 
St.  Andrew's  and  members  of  the  church — 
wealthy  members,  too — followed,  prepared  to 
renew  their  bonds  foi  tlie  moderator  were  it 
neccst*ary.  Legal  friends  came  also,  who 
could  cross-question,  perplex,  and  almost  de- 
molish the  evidence  of  any  ordinary  witness. 
Every  arrangement  had  been  made  to  give  aid 
and  comfort  to  one  so  wantonly  harassed  and 
accused.  The  doctor  entered ;  the  place  was 
familiar,  but  she  was  not  there  to  greet  him. 
There  were  strange  faces — the  coroner  and  his 
assistants,  police  otRcers  and  jurors — who  look- 
ed suspiciously  at  him,  as  if  eager  to  give  the 
verdict  which  he  feared.  There  were  others, 
perhaps  accusers  or  witnesses  ;  and  now,  while 
he  tried  to  assume  the  air  of  an  injured  man 
and  to  a])i)('ar  greatly  affected,  he  looked 
searchingly  around  for  one  girlish  countenance. 
He  could  not  see  it,  neither  was  that  dreaded 
infidel  present.  Hope  came  again  and  grew 
stronger.  He  could  look  with  comparative  in- 
ditFerence  upon  that  other  little  face,  bruised 
and  blackened,  that  was  there  before  him — yes, 
he  could  look,  for  Alice  was  not  there  whose 
living  visage  ho  feared  still  more  to  behold. 
A  great  point  was  gained.  Brosa  must  have 
received  his  mi^ssage,  and  acted  i)roniptly. 
His  daughter  Alice  was  not  th.3re,  thanks,  no 
doubt,  to  Bross.  He  began  to  breathe  more 
freely,  and  to  feel  himself  saved. 

The  jurors  were  sworn,  they  went  to  view 
the  bodies,  and  the  legal  gentlemen  who  ap- 
peared on  behalf  of  the  crown  stated  that 
evidence  would  be  produced  to  show  that 
the  deceased  girl  had  been  in  the  employment 
of  the  late  Mrs.  Pinkley,  that,  she  was  not  of 
a  vicious  disposition,  as  had  been  improperly 
reported,  and  that  it  was  not  at  all  probable 
that  she  had  committed  self-destruction.  Evi- 
dence would  also  ])rove  that  she  was  very 
much  attached  to  the  children  of  Doctor  Bus- 
ter, an'd  that  she  had  never  committed  the 
least  act  of  violence  toward  one  or  the  other  ; 
but  that,  on  the  contrary,  when  the  boy  had 
been  struck  down  by  another,  she  was  heard 
to  bewail  him  aj  if  dead ;  and  that  there  was 
strong  reason  to  believe  that  her  own  death 
had  b(!en  effected  in  a  very  short  time  after- 
ward by  persons  w'lo  wert*  then  present,  and 
anxious  to  get  her  out  of  the  way. 

"  Persons  who  were  tlien  presiuit !"  The 
moderator  grew  nervous — who  could  prove 
that  he  was  there  V  lie  wiiispered  to  his  legal 
adviser,  and  that  gentleman  begged  perniis* 
flion  to  interrupt  his  h-arned  friend  by  assert- 
ing his  doubts  as  to  his  ability  to  prociin^ 
«ucli  jiroof.  Then  the  doctor  looked  eagerly 
around  again,  yet  Alice  could  not  be  seen. 

Tlie  interruption  met  with  no  reply  ;  the 
counsel  for  the  crown  merely  told  the  jurors 


that  they  would  not  be  kept  waiting  for  tho 
evidence ;  he  would  first  call  on  Samuel 
Styles.  This  witness  was  entirely  unknown 
to  Doctor  Buster — he  applied  his  eye-glass. 
Samuel  Styles !  Who  is  he  ?  He  was  sworn. 
In  order  to  explain  his  position  more  fully,  he 
gave  the  jury  his  reasons  for  entering  the 
Home  as  keeper,  and  how  he  had  detected  the 
plans  of  the  moderator  and  Mrs.  Pinkley ; 
how  he  had  discovered  the  doctor's  imprisoned 
wife,  and  how  he  had  watched  for  the  children, 
and,  at  last,  how  he  had  entered  the  house, 
when  he  heard  the  scream,  on  the  very  eve- 
ning of  the  murder.  He  could  not  say  who  had 
actually  struck  the  blow,  but,  said  he,  point- 
ing to  the  accused  minister,  "  That  man  was 
present,  and  I  heard  Mrs.  Pinkley  accuse  him 
of  the  act,  and  reproach  him  for  so  doing." 
The  doctor  turned  ghastly  pale,  and  trembled 
from  head  to  foot.  "  It  is  infamous,"  muttered 
the  Rev.  Andrew  Campbell,  "  an  infamous 
plot !" 

"  I  beg  to  draw  your  attention,  gentlemen, 
to  the  fact,"  again  interrupted  the  doctor's  le- 
gal friend,  "  that  the  witness  was  rather  on 
intimate  terms  with  the  deceased  girl — what 
proper  business  could  he  have  had  there  at 
the  time  ?  Might  it  not  be  asserted,  that  he  is 
now  only  acting  like  a  criminal,  who,  to  shield 
hunself,  would  accuse  others  ?  He  is  a  stran- 
ger— one  to  be  suspected — where  is  Ms  proof 
that  my  accused  friend  was  in  the  house? 
surely  we  are  not  to  take  the  ipse  dixit  of  a 
man  in  the  very  equivocal  position  of  this 
precious  witness." 

"You  shall  have  evidence  presently,"  re- 
plied Samuel  Styles ;  "  I  may  be  a  kind  of 
strange  in  these  parts,  but  I  guess  I  know  a 
tiling  or  two.  I  can  prove  that  I  engaged  in 
the  asylum  as  keeper  by  the  advice  of  one,  per- 
haps known  to  many  present — one,  anyway, 
whom  to  know  is  to  trust.  I  fifllowed  Mrs.  Pink- 
ley into  her  house  that  evening  unperceived  ;  I 
saw  who  were  there — guess  I  saw  too  much. 
I  didn't  wait  a  minute,  I  linibcjred  up  and  put, 
and  in  less  than  an  hour  I  told  my  story 
to  the  authorities  ;  that  poor  girl  lying  there, 
was  made -away  with  before  they  got  here, 
she  was  kneeling  by  the  side  of  the  boy 
wh(!n  I  left.  Anyhow,  I'm  about  right  in 
what  I  say,  and  that  child  cofiiing  in  will 
l)rove  the  rest." 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  to  the  door.  Mr. 
Thomas  Bross  entered  obsequiously — he  had 
already  tiansi'erred  his  allegiance.  The  mod- 
erator as  a  priest,  and  the 'moderator  as  a 
])risoner  were  to  him  two  distinct  individu- 
als ;  there  was  no  personal  identity — he  knew 
neither.  Though  pious,  he  was  a  worldly- 
wise  man,  a  time-server,  and  knew  where  the 
sunshine  was,  and  there  he  would  bask.  The 
doctor  was  in  the  shade — there  let  him  stay  ; 
Bross  would  now  follow  the  fortunes  of  his 
great  opponent. 

The  moderator's  heart  failed  him.  Was  slie 
coming  V  He  dare  not  look  up— a  sight  of  that 
living  child  would  be  more  terrible  than  the 
siglit  of  the  dead  one.  He  heard  her  weeping, 
and  the  praytir  of  his  heart  then  was,  "  Oh ! 
that  with  her  tears  her  eyes  might  melt 
away  and  her  tongue  refuse  its  olfice.  Oh! 


IM 


EXETER  HALL. 


I'H 


•Its"* 


,    r-  '■> 


I 


that  the  sight  of  that  mangled  body  might 
put  her  reason  to  flight,  or  stop  the  throbbing 
of  her  heart  forever." 

She  came  weeping,  poor  thing!  Oh!  how 
sadly.  She  was  led  in  tenderly  by  Mr.  Man- 
ners, and  at  the  moment,  the  intense  gaze  of 
pity  from  nearly  all  present  seemed  to  bring 
a  hush  followed  by  a  deep  silence.  Men  held 
their  breath,  and  tried  to  keep  back  their  tears 
— the  mute  eloquence  of  nature.  They  stood 
aside  to  let  her  approach ;  her  slight  form  was 
bent  with  grief,  and  she  drew  near,  crying  and 
sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  She  ap- 
proached the  table,  and  then,  for  the  first  time, 
looked  up  ;  what  a  sight  met  her  eyes !  She 
seemed  suddenly  overwhelmed  ;  she  was  sink- 
ing, but  ere  she  fell  she  was  seized  and  then 
taken  fainting  from  the  crowded  room.  Had 
her  father's  prayer  or  curse  already  had  its 
accomplishment  ? 

They  waited  for  some  time,  but  a  medical 
gentleman  who  was  in  attendance  gave  it  as 
his  opinion  that,  as  the  child  had  received  a 
dreadful  shock,  it  might  prove  fatal  were  she 
again  brought  in  that  day.  If  her  evidence 
■was  necessary,  it  must  be  taken  in  some  other 
place  and  at  some  other  time.  The  coroner 
was  of  the  same  ojnnion  ;  and,  as  it  was  get- 
ting late,  he  suggested  that  other  evidence 
might  be  taken,  and  that  tliey  would  then  atl- 
journ  until  the  next  day. 

A  witness  was  called,  and  Mr.  Mannors  an- 
swered to  his  name.  "  I  beg  respectfully  to 
object  to  that  gentleman's  evidence."  said 
Doctor  Buster's  legal  friend,  addressing  the 
coroner.  "I  am  sure  that  you  will  concur  in 
the  opinion  that  his  evidence  is  not  admissi- 
ble." 

These  remarks  caused  some  surprise. 

"  Not  admissil)le !     Why  so  ?" 

"  Because  he  is  not  a  believer  in  our  holy 
religion.  lie  treats  the  Holy  Scriptures  with 
contempt.     He  is  an  infidel — a  blasphemer." 

The  counsel  for  the  crown  interfered  ;  he 
could  not  imagine  that  such  a  dis()ualification 
existed.  Were  he  to  judge  by  appearances, 
ther(^  was  not  a  ]ierson  present  before  the  court 
on  whom  he  could  more  readily  depend  for  a 
truthful  evidence. 

"  The  learned  counsel  must,  however,  ad- 
mit," retorted  the  other,  "  that  ap]warances 
are  sometimes  very  deceptive.  Truth  from 
prejudiced  lips  is  too  often  equal  to  falsehood. 
However,  if  tlu;  gentleman  is  truthful,  a  plain 
answer  to  a  plain  (piestion  will  settle  the  busi- 
ness." 

As  it  was,  the  coroner  felt  rather  ashamed  of 
the  objection.  "  Mr.  Manners,  you  have  heard 
wliat  has  b(;en  just  stated  ;  will  you  be  good 
encjugh  to  say  whether  you  believe  the  lloly 
Bible  to  be  the  revealed  word  of  God,  binding 
on  all  men  'i  Do  you  believe  in  a  future  state 
of  rewards  and  punishments  ?" 

"  Will  my  answer  be  satisfactory  ?  I  am 
not  sworn  ;  will  my  mere  word  in  reference  to 
this  be  b.'lievedr' 

"  Cerlaiuly." 

"  It  seiMus,  then,  that  the  evidence  which  I 
may  giv(!  against  myself  will  be  a(C('])ted, 
while  that  which  I  could  give;  against  a 
criminal  will.be  refused.  L('t  it  be  so — it  is 
the  result  of  Christian  hoerality.    I  do  not 


believe  that  the  Christian  Bible  is  the  reveal- 
ed word  of  any  God,  or  of  any  being  superior 
to  man.  I  can  not  say  whether  tliere  is  or  \vi  1 1 
be  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  i)unishnienta, 
I  can  neither  affirm  nor  deny  ;  but  I  never 
yet  Viave  had  any  proof  of  a  post-mortem  exis- 
tence. Still,  my  fondest  hopes  are  in  that 
direction." 

"  Then,"  said  the  coroner  in  a  hesitating 
manner,  "  I  regret  that  we  can  not  accept  any 
statement  from  you  as  legal  evidence." 

Well  might  the  coroner  and  those  around 
him  have  blushed  at  such  a  declaration,  and 
well  may  intolerance  point  with  pride  to  its 
recorded  triumphs.  There  is  a  statute  includ- 
ed among  British  laws— a  usage  in  Biitish 
practice  —  whereby  honest,  thoughtful,  in- 
credulous men  can  be  wantonly  insultfvi  in  a 
piiblic  court  and  unjustly  ostracizal  for  their 
adherence  to  honest  opinion.  The  exercise  of 
this  antifiuated  bigotry  in  the  nineteenth 
century  should  bring  the  blush  of  fjliami^  to 
the  cheek  of  every  liberal  man. 

"As  the  court  has  very  i)roperly  refused  that 
person's  evidence,  before  we  adjourn  I  trust  I 
may  be  permitted,  on  behalf  of  ^ny  accused 
friend,  to  show  that  a  deep  design  has  for  some 
time  existed  against  him ;  that  the  very 
individual  whose  word  or  who.'ie  oath  would 
not  be  trusted  by  honest  men,  or  received  in 
an  ordinary  court  of  justice,  has  not  only 
destroyed  the  domestic  haj)pines8  of  my  client, 
but  has  hounded  and  persecuttid  him  down  to 
the  ])resent  moment.  Not  only  have  the  infidel 
sentiments  of  that  man  caused  him  to  be  a 
blight  to  the  happiness  of  his  own  wife,  so  much 
so  as  to  cause  her  to  be  immured  in  an 
asylum,  but  here  is  evidence  to  show  that  he 
has  been  the  principal  agent  in  leading  a  once 
worthy  Avoman  down  to  infamy."  llaving 
said  this,  he  held  out  the  letter  or  note  which 
had  been  hastily  written  by  Mr.  Mannors  to 
the  moderator's  wife  at  the  time  she  was  try- 
ing to  escape  from  persecution. 

"  Hampstead,  June,  1863. 
"  My  De.vti  'Madam  :  I  shall  meet  you 
again  next  Thursday  at  the  place  aii])ointed. 
I  have  already  made  arrangements  for  your 
temporary  stay  at  the  K(>d  Lion.  In  that  place, 
you  can  l)e  p(>rfectly  private.  I  think  you 
should  leave  your  husband  at  once,  and  be 
free  for  a  time  or  forever  from  his  vicious  con- 
trol.   Yours  sincerely, 

'"  Martin  Mannohs." 

"  Gentlemen,  comment  is  almost  useless, 
but  I  consider  this  hotter  to  be  damning  proof 
of  the  infamy  of  that  man." 

"As  I  have  not  been  permitted  to  give  evi- 
dence," said  Mr.  Mannors  in  a  mild  tone,  "I 
trust  that  I  may  be  allowed  to  ex]ilain  why 
that  letter  was  written,  and  to  pi"ove  1)y  otlusrs 
that  the  persecuted  lady  first  sought  mo.  She 
is  at  present  beneath  my  roof  and  und(>r  my 
protection,  and  were  it  not  that  she  is  greatly 
enfeebled,  and  that  it  would  be  worse  than 
<:ruelty  to  l)ring  her  here,  she  could  give  such 
a  rebuke  to  her  detractors  and  to  mine  ^\s  would 
silence  them  fortn'er." 

"  So  she  could,  sir, so  shecould,"  interrupted 
Mr.  Bross  ;  "  I  can  prove  that  when — " 


the  r(^voft]- 
11  <;  siiiH'fior 
creiflDrwill 
iinislinients. 
)Ut  I  never 
lortem  cxis- 
ire  in  that 

,  hositatinjf 
t  ace jpt  any 
ice." 

1080  nround 
aration,  and 
pride  to  its 
itute  iiiclud- 

in  Bi'itisli 
iglitful,  in- 
iHiilte*.!  in  a 
ed  f('r  their 
e  exorciso  of 

niueteenth 
:>f  fihaine  to 

rf  fnscd  tliat 

irn  I  trust  I 

■■.ny  accused 

has  for  some 

t    the    very 

oath  wouhl 

received  in 

18  not  only 

)f  my  client, 

lim  down  to 

Hi  the  infidel 

liim  to  be  a 

|vifo,somucli 

ured  in  an 

low  that  he 

adin»^aonco 

"     HavinfT 

note  which 

Manners  to 

he  was  try- 


Une,  1863. 
meet  you 
aiijiointed. 

lis  for  your 
that  place, 
think  you 

ice,  und  be 
icious  coa- 

LNNOKS." 

pst    nselcK?, 
liiiiiig  proof 

|o  jfivo  evi- 

|ld  tone,  "  I 

tphiin  why 

[o  ])y  otlmrs 

lit  mo.   She 

under  my 

is  {Treat ly 

Ivorse  than 

ll  {rive  such 

lie  fis  would 

interrupted 


^.XETER    HALL. 


1«T 


Tho  counsel  for  the  crown  rather  abruptly 
stopped  the  law-clerk's  flow  ol  eloquence,  by 
Btating  what  had  been  just  read  or  said  was 
irrelevant ;  it  was  no  matter  for  the  considera- 
tion of  the  jury.  Direct  evidence  was  requir- 
ed, and  he  had  been  but  a  moment  or  two 
since  assured  that  if  the  little  fjirl,  Alice,  was 
kept  quiet  and  free  from  any  further  excite- 
ment for  a  few  hours,  she  would  be  able  to 
give  evidence  to-morrow  ;  that  evidence  was  all 
that  was  now  required  before  the  matter  was 
left  to  the  jury. 

"  I  guess  here's  a  piece  of  evidence  you  won't 
refuse,"  said  Samuel  Styles.  "  I  rather  think 
'twill  speak  conclusively.  I  shall  leave  it 
with  you  before  M-e  jiart ;  it  can  be  cross- 
questioned  at  leisure.  lie  handed  the  Queen's 
Counsel  a  handsome  cane,  which  had  been 
broken  in  halves  ;  it  was  of  ebony,  and  its 
massive  gold  handle  was  covered  with  blood, 
which  had  dried  and  crisped  in  its  rich  chas- 
ing. In  seai'cliing  Mrs.  Pinkley's  room  that 
morning,  he  had  found  it  under  the  mattress 
of  her  bed. 

"Now,"  continued  he,  pointing  to  Doctor 
Buster's  legal  friend,  "  that  gentleman  a  kind 
of  hinted  that  I  was  a  stranger  in  these  parts, 
and  might  lie  acting  like  a  criminal,  by  trying 
to  throw  the  load  on  others.  Just  ask  him  if 
he  ever  saw  that  fancy  article  before,  and  if 
he  knows  who  is  the  owner.  I  rather  hope 
that  his  position  just  now  won't  be  quite  as 
equivocal  as  he  hinted  that  mine  was  a  spell 
since.  If  he  can't  exactly  turn  it  through  his 
.  mind,  perhaps  that  other  gentleman  " — and  he 
pointed  to  tlie  Rev.  Andrew  Campbell — "  might 
refresh  his  memory,  and  help  him  to  make  a 
clean  guess  ;  not  that  I  exactly  want  the 
information  myself,  'tan't  of  no  great  conse 
quence  to  me — guess  I'm  sufficiently  posted — 
but  these  twelve  men  here  might  be  just  a 
leetle  curious  and  might  like  to  hear  their 
sentiments." 

It  was  lucky  at  the  moment  for  Doctor  Buster 
that  tho  broken  cane  was  the  object  of  such 
general  interest.  He  sat  crouched  in  a  corner 
of  the  room,  and  the  policeman,  wiio  stood 
close  by,  could  see  him  tremble,  and  couUl 
mark  the  knotted  veins  swell  out  upon  his 
forehead.  W(>re  it  possible  for  that  dead  boy 
to  arise  from  his  clotted  bier  and  give  evi- 
dence against  his  father,  it  would  not  be  more 
conclusive  to  many  ]ires(.'nt  than  the  sight  of 
that  blood-marked  witness.  The  owner  of  it 
was  well  known  ;  neither  tlicf  doctor's  advocate, 
nor  the  Rev.  Andrew  Canii)bell  made  any  re- 
ply—a dawning  of  the  terrible  truth  had  even 
now  come  for  them. 

The  shadows  of  the  wintry  evening  had 
already  begun  to  make  their  api)earauc(3 ;  an 
adjournment  was  a^sked  lor.  The  doctor,  it 
was  pleaded,  felt  much  harassed  and  fatigued  ; 
ho  would  be  able  to  give  a  satisfactory  exi>la- 
nation  to-morrow.  Tho  coroner  was  very 
considerate— he  did  not  wish  to  be  too  rigir- 
ous  with  a  distinguished  clergyman  ;  but  it 
was  with  dilticultv  that  the  counsel  for  the 
crown  was  i»revailed  upon  to  consent  to  re- 
new tho  doctor's  bail— he  did  not  deem  it 
just  to  draw  nice  distinctions  in  lavor  of 
clerical  otl'enders.  However,  promises  and 
importunities  prevailed,  aud  tho  moderator 


was  again  saved  from  commitment.  In  leav- 
ing the  place,  the  accused  man  was  without 
hope,  but  he  made  a  desperate  effort  to  appear 
calm  ;  he  smiled,  and  leaned  upon  the  arm  of 
his  reverend  friend,  and  he  walked  away  as 
complacently  as  a  sanctified  criminal  on  his 
way  to  execution. 

For  obvious  reasons,  Alice  was  consigned 
to  the  care  of  the  medical  avtendant  until  tho 
next  day,  and  a  posse  of  constables  were  to 
be  Iqft  in  charge  of  the  place.  Samuel  Styles 
joined  Mr.  Manners,  and  they  once  more  turn- 
ed their  faces  toward  Hampstead. 

Tho  dreary  December  night  had  passed 
away,  and  the  cnld,  gloomy  dawn  was  slowly 
making  its  appearance.  The  moon  was  in 
its  last  quarter  ;  it  now  shone  through  a  small 
opening  in  the  heavy  clouds,  and  a  few  stars 
in  tho  interminable  distance  stole  glimpses  at 
the  bleak  earth.  One  of  the  homeless  urchins 
of  the  city,  who  had  taken  refuge  during  the 
night  in  an  outhouse  or  shed  adjoining  tho 
stable  belonging  to  the  pastor  of  St.  Andrew's, 
peeped  out  from  under  his  bundle  of  rags.  lie 
was  trembling,  there  was  snow  upon  the 
ground,  and  the  pangs  of  hunger  had  already 
robbed  him  of  any  chance  for  the  continuation 
of  his  wretched  rest.  Would  he  live  another 
day,  he  must  be  active ;  he  must  go  out  again 
into  the  wilderness  of  streets,  and  pick  up  and 
swallow  such  garbage  as  could  be  found.  Per- 
hajis  it  might  be  a  lucky  day,  he  might  find  a 
shilling,  or  get  a  chance  to  steal  one — it  made 
no  difference  which.  Pinched  and  straitened 
as  he  was,  theft  to  him  could  not  be  crime, 
but  suicide  was  ;  in  his  great  extremity,  he 
had  never  yet  thought  of  that.  But  was  it 
not  right  to  steal  ?  else  how  could  he  live  ?  He 
wanted  bread  ;  it  was  in  his  last  thoughts  at 
night  when  he  lay  down  in  hunger — bread 
was  in  his  dreams,  and  bread,  or  rather  want 
of  it,  came  again  with  the  dawn.  He  must 
live ;  forlorn  as  he  was,  there  was  hope — 
th(!re  was  yet  a  charm  in  his  bleak,  unblessed 
existence  which  he  would  not  exchange  for 
death.  The  cold  moonlight  was  streaming 
down,  and  a  colder  blast  was  rushing  about, 
and  now,  as  this  poor  starveling  indulged  in 
felon  thoughts  toward  large  brown  loaves,  he 
noticed  a  long  shadow  moving  backward 
and  forward  at  the  end  of  the  shed  furthest 
from  where  he  lay.  He  looked  listlessly  at  it 
for  some  time,  but  its  motion  in  the  moonlight 
was  so  unusual  that  he  watched  it  more 
closely.  He  had  often  taken  refuge  in  that 
jtlace  before,  but  no  such  vision  had  ever  until 
now  disturbed  his  waking  moments  or  ban- 
ished his  thoughts  of  bread.  Wrapt  in  his 
rags,  h(!  hobbled  out,  then  went  toward  the 
stable-door ;  tho  end  of  a  beam  projected  a 
couple  of  feet  from  the  wall ;  he  looked  up  in 
the  gloom  somewhat  frightened  ;  a  rope  had 
been  attached  to  tho  beam,  the  body  of  a  large 
man  hung  at  the  end  of  the  rope,  the  wind 
swung  it  to  and  fro,  and  the  long  spectral 
shadow  which  followed  tho  body  wa«  the^ 
shadow  of  the  late  Doctor  Theophilus  Buster. . 


168 


EXETER    HALL. 


<- 


i 


ft'. 


■•^>>^ 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

It  had  been  blowing  a  keen  son-wester  all 
day,  and  the  Atlantic  waves,  as  they  entered 
the  passajre  leading'  to  Cork  harbor,  rushed 
wildly  toward  Fort  Carlisle,  and  then,  as  if 
repulsed,  seemed  to  be  (diminished,  and  to 
slacken  their  speed  as  they  bounded  by  Spike 
Island  on  their  Hashing  and  sparkling  course 
to  the  most  spacious  and  beautiful  haven  in 
Ireland.  Some  miles  out  at  sea,  a  large  steam- 
er from  Liverpool  was  heading  for  tliis  port ; 
it  had  struggled  nobly  all  day  against  adverse 
winds  and  waves,  and  now,  as  day  drew  to  a 
close,  there  was  a  luii,  and  an  April  sunfot 
flung  a  glory  along  the  coasl,  -'nd  iis  waning 
red  rays  could  bo  seen  wandering  away  over 
the  distant  hills,  and  then,  as  if  resting  on 
the  very  verge  of  earth  and  heaven,  gradually 
mellowed  into  the  most  delicate  blush  ere 
sinking  into  repose. 

Several  passo^ngers  had  assembled  on  the 
deck  of  the  vtissel  ;  some  who  were  in  a  hurry 
to  land  had  already  been  packing  trunks  and 
carpet-bags ;  a  few  mercantile  men  were  dis- 
cussing tiie  chances  of  an  increase  or  falling 
off  in  business ;  politicians  talked  of  the  re- 
form bill,  of  Fenians,  and  of  the  gloomy  i)ros- 
pects  of  the  confederates  in  America ;  while 
others,  who  had  been  a  longer  or  shorter 
period  away  from  their  native  land,  gazed 
thoughtfully  upon  the  distant  headlands,  or 
traced  the  dim  outline  of  some  mountain 
whose  summit  was  lost  in  the  clouds,  but  by 
whose  base,  perhaps,  stood  the  sheltered  val- 
ley cottage  that  was — Home. 

Apart  from  the  other  passengers,  two  per- 
sons stood  leaning  against  the  ship's  side 
toward  the  forward  part  of  the  vessel.  There 
was  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  and  they 
were  gazing  on  the  panorama  of  beautiful 
scenery  which  moved  slowly  by.  One  was  a 
stout,  low-sizf  d  man  of  middle  age,  he  had  a 
reddish,  good-humored  face,  and  there  was 
something  clerical  in  his  appearance ;  the 
other  was  younger,  taller,  rather  slight  or 
slim,  and  of  no  particular  complexion. 

"And  that's  the  Hreen  Isle,  the  Island  of 
Saints?  Well,  now,  I  fancy  'twould  be  much 
better  for  all  parties  if  it  had  never  gained 
that  name.  Saints  !  my  present  idea  of  that  par- 
ticular class  is  something  like  what  I  used  to 
have  of  bears  or  wild-cats.  They're  mild  and 
glossy  at  times,  well  enough  to  look  at ;  but 
'tis  just  as  well  to  keep  hands  off,  and  not  cross 
their  track  or  interfere  with  tlieir  doings  ;  if 
you're  risky,  and  keep  witliin  reach,  they're 
not  mighty  particular  about  hurtin'  your 
feelings.  Well,  now.  that's  a  kind  of  natural 
looking  right  across  the  way — green  and 
brown  fields,  and  tlu  m  old  blue  hills  away  off; 
you  han't  much  timber,  ratlujr  too  mucli  of  a 
clearance,  but  how  green !  green  and  gurden- 
like,  that's  a  fact.  Yes,  there's  no  mistake 
about  it,  I  rather  fancy  that  that  is  the  Emerald 
Isle," 

There  was  another  pause  for  a  few  moTnents, 
and  then  his  companion,  while  looking  at  tlu- 
approaching  shore,  said  reflectively, "  Yes,  sir, 
that's  oidd  Ireland,"  and  he  seemed  to  lay 
particular  stress  upon  the  adjective. 

"Well,  old  or  new,  'tis  about  as  good  a 


place  for  raising  saints  as  any  I  know  of.  It 
takes  a  certain  kind  of  folks  to  make  good 
saints — such  as  are  ready  to  believe  all  thi^y 
know,  and  a  good  deal  of  what  they  d(m't 
know.  Anyhow,  they  ought  to  prosper  over 
there ;  but  some  say  they've  been  as  bad  for 
the  land  as  Canada  thistles." 

"Just  as  bad.  We've  had  saints  of  all  de- 
grees from  Palladius  or  Patrick,  its  reputed 
patron,  down  to  Cullen.  If  religion  has  been 
a  blessing  to  others,  it  has  failed  altogether 
with  us ;  we've  had  it  in  almost  every  shape 
and  form — Pagan,  and  Popish,  and  Protestant ; 
it  has  been  fed  with  blood,  and  pam])ered  with 
gold.  The  crown,  and  the  cross,  and  the  Bible 
have  each  in  turn  exercised  an  influence  only 
adverse  to  humanity.  Then  we've  had  a 
dominant  church  and  its  holy  ajmstle — the 
nword;  but  all  to  no  purpose.  It  seems  tome 
that  the  Irish  will  never  Ijo  converted  by 
Christianity,  it  wants  something  more  pure 
and  undefiled  than  that  to  soften  their  hearts 
and  end  their  strife.  In  this  respect,  I  think 
they  are  but  a  type  of  our  common  humanity. 
Yes,  sir,  the  Gospel  has  been  a  woe  to  that 
island ;  its  ancient  Dr\iidism  could  not  have 
created  more  superstition,  caused  more  conten- 
tion, or  produced  greater  mental  degeneracy  ; 
and  sure  I  myself  have  helped  them  down  ; 
well,  nabochluh,  I'll  undo  what  I  can  before  I 
die." 

"  I  guess  we've  all  a  little  to  undo  in  that 
way  ;  still  'twas  no  fault  of  ours,  we  were 
hitched  to  the  thing  in  early  years  ;  that's  the 
Gospel  plan  you  know  —  catch  them  while 
they're  gn^en — they  can't  begin  with  think- 
ing, r(>asoning  men  ;  se(;ure  the  young  ones 
and  the  women  folks,  and  the  rest  are  more 
likely  to  follow.  But  now  that  we're  free,  lot 
us  try  and  helj)  those  in  bonds.  'Tis  a  tough 
task,  I  admit ;  but  the  ball  is  rolling,  and  time 
will  do  the  rest,  that's  certain. — See  them 
green  hill  slopes  !  every  thing  so  fresh  look- 
ing, an't  that  fine?  If  a  man  had  any  poetry 
in  his  nature,  he  ought  to  be  able  to  find  it 
somewhere  about  here.  Well,  how  I  should 
like  to  have  a  few  thousand  of  them  Irish 
acres,  and  then,  if  I  could  only  get  the  right 
kind  of  settlers,  every  one  of  them  as  igno- 
rant of  all  religion  as  a  rhinoceros,  and  have 
common-sense  laws,  good  schools,  and  freedom 
from  the  (extortion  of  ])rit'Sts  and  i)arHons,  I 
rather  think  we  should  make  the  thing  work, 
and  make  out  to  live,  and  prove  to  the  world 
what  could  be  done  on  Irish  soil." 

"  So  you  might,  but,  alas !  for  poor  Ireland  ; 
its  soil  has  been  enriched  mainly  by  blood.  For 
centuries  the  battle  of  creeds  has  continued,  un- 
til almost  every  foot  of  its  surface  has  been 
trodden  over  by  armies,  and  factions,  and  reli- 
gious freebooters  of  all  kinds.  First  the  pagan 
was  routed,  then  came  Palladius,  or  Patrick,  or 
some  other  pious  jjretender,  upsetting  one  idol 
and  erecting  anotlu^r,  then  Christianity  was 
called  civilizati.'.n,  and  the  converte<l  i)oor  were 
l)lundered  and  made  poorer  by  continu(!d  im- 
jxists  for  the  (srection  of  cathedrals,  and  ab- 
Ix'ys,  and  monasteries,  apfl  for  the  support  of 
a  horde  of  idle  i)riests  ;  then  came  the  Ucsfor- 
mation,  with  its  alien  clergy  and  rai>aciou9 
g()sp(;lers,  eager  for  prey  and  for  pronely tes, 
and  these  were  soon  followed  by  Cromwell 


EXETER    HALL. 


169 


and  confiscation.  The  old  form  of  Christiani- 
ty was  calUid  idohitry,  the  next  was  avarice  ; 
both,  in  th(!ir  results,  were  mercenary  and  in- 
human. The  exactions  of  tlie  one  were  bad 
enoujyh,  but  the  extortions  of  the  other  have 
been  tlie  main  cause  of  rebellion  and  murder, 
legal  and  iile<ral,  for  the  last  tlireo  hundred 
years.  Rome  in  its  i)almy  days  quietly  (loeced 
the  Irish  flock,  but  the  voracious  Enjrlish 
state  church  has  rushed  down  upon  them  like 
a  wolf,  and,  behold  its  eft'ccts  !  religious  des- 
potism, religious  strife,  and  a  pauper  popu- 
lation." 

"  Just  so,  the  boasted  effects  of  a  religion 
of  peace  and  good-will ;  but  wliat  of  the  dis- 
senters—you an't  forgetting  them?" 

"  No,  they  are  our  ciiief  beggars — a  hungry 
race.  They  are  forces  that  gnaw  the  very 
bones ;  they  are  the  Pharisees  of  our  day,  pray- 
ing for  iuunility,  yet  eager  for  power.  But 
no  wonder  we  have  continued  discord  and  re- 
bellion in  Ireland — religion  has  been  its 
greatest  oppressor.  The  state  church,  with 
less  than  one  seventh  of  the  population,  de- 
mands support  from  the  remainder  who  reject 
its  teachings.  That  insti,tution,  established  by 
violence  and  fraud,  still  exacts  for  the  main- 
tenance of  its  archbishops,  bishops,  priests, 
and  ecclesiastical  commissioners  aljout  £700,- 
000  annually ;  besides,  it  has  rents  and  rev- 
enues Ironi  100,000  acres  of  land,  and  other 
enormous  emoluments,  sufficient  if  expended 
in  humane  and  charitable  purposes  to  give 
vast  relief  to  the  deserving  poor.  What  but 
rebelli(m  can  be  expected  from  such  wholesale 
plunder  ?  Irish  Catholics,  wiio  are  heavily 
taxed  to  pay  their  own  priesthood,  naturally 
feel  indignant  at  such  base  oppression,  and 
justly  oflv-r  it  a  continued  resistance.  Between 
Papists  and  Protestants,  orange  and  green, 
the  si)irit  of  the  nation  has  been  almost 
crushed  out,  and  kings,  popes,  prelates,  and 
priests  may  well  exult ;  they  have  brought 
misery  on  a  land  that  might  have  been  a  re- 
gion of  happiness." 

"  Tills  is,  you  know,  what  they  call  propa- 
gating the  Gospel ;  but,  according  to  your  idea 
and  mine  too,  they  have  had  too  mucli  of  a 
good  thing — I  guess  they'd  better  take  up 
again  with  the  Druids." 

"  They  might,  for  the  matter  of  that  ;  ay, 
propagation  of  the  faith  and  spread  of  the 
Gospel  arc.  ready  expressions,  but  What  have 
they  cost  the  world?  A  frightful  amount. 
Every  fanatic  las  a  mission  of  some  kind  or 
other — one  has  a  pntron  saint,  and  importunes 
to  decorate  its  shrine ;  another  starts  off'  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth  to  carry  a  Bible  to  the 
heathen.  What  with  churches  and  priests, 
saints  and  slirines.  Bibles  and  tracts,  the 
world  has  been  agitated  and  impoverished, 
and  tiio  necessities  of  the  poor  made  only  a 
secondary  consideration.  Instead  of  trying 
to  erailicat(!  ])ov(>rty,  the  whole  machinery  of 
Christendom  is  kept  in  cc^aseless  operation  ftu- 
the  purpose;  of  extracting  money — not  of 
course  f(jr  tlu;  re^lief  of  actual  distress,  but  un- 
der the  pnitense  that,  unless  you  teach  reli- 
gion, or  si)read  the  (}osi)e],  souls  will  be  driven 
to  perdition  ;  tin;  real  woes  of  this  life  are  con- 
sidered but  trivial,  while  the  imaginary  ones 
of  a  future  state  must  be  averted  at  any  cost." 


"  You  mustn't  forget  that  It  requires  eternal 
diligi  nee  to  counteract  th.e  designs  of  the  evil 
one  ;  the  operations  of  priest-folks  lie  in  that 
dirt!cti(m.  'Tis  something  of  a  task  to  clip 
the  wings  of  the  old  dragon,  and  something 
of  a  triumph  to  keep  the  critturfnmi  gobbling 
up  all  creaticm — an't  that  so  V" 

"  Ay,  that's  a  triumph,  to  be  sure  ;  we  hear 
constant  boasts  of  the  triumphs  of  the  true 
faitli — but  which  is  true  ?  The  "apist  boasts, 
and  so  does  the  Protestant,  o.a  every  sect,  no 
matter  how  great  or  insignidcant,  tells  you  of 
Gospel  triumphs ;  and  then  what  are  they 
compared  with  the  efforts  that  have  been 
made,  or  the  sums  which  have  been  lavished 
on  the  insane  idea  of  making  all  men  have 
bu^  one  faith,  and  forcing  Christianity  on  the 
world  ?  After  all  that  has  been  done,  what  is  the 
actunl  progress  ?  Why,  after  nearly  two  thou- 
sand years  of  praying  and  preaching,  begging 
and  compelling,  other  systems  have  not  only 
remained  intact,  but  have  gained  adherents. 
Mohammedanism  has  superseded  Christianity 
in  the  East ;  Judaism  still  scorns  its  pretcn- 
sicms,  paganism  is  proud  in  a  vast  control ; 
while  science,  and  secelarism,  and  spiritual- 
ism are  winning  and  drawing  thinking  men 
away  from  the  worship  of  the  cross  and  from 
the  idolatry  of  the  Bible.  The  magnificent  ef- 
forts of  Exeter  Hall  are  unavailing;  the  tor- 
rent of  unbelief  rushes  on.  During  the  last 
sixty  years,  the  Bible  Society  of  Britain  alone, 
has  printed  and  distributed  over  fifty -three  mil- 
lions of  copies  of  the  Christian  Bible,  and  yet  it 
has  been  calculated  that  even  at  this  rate  it 
would  take  1140  more  years,  and  one  hundred 
md  twentj'  millions  more  of  money,  to  give  a 
copy  of  this  so-called /ree  Gospel  to  every  hu- 
man being!  and  though  millions  have  been 
already  spent  to  circulate  the  Scriptures,  not 
one  person  in  twenty  has  yet  been  favored 
with  the  perusal  of  this  strange  message 
from  God  to  man.  If  the  Gospel,  as  has  been 
alleged,  was  once  preached  to  every  creature, 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  mu=t  have  been 
very  few,  or  else  they  must  have  quickly  re- 
jected its  teachings  ;  if  it  was  indispensable 
for  man's  salvation,  wdiat  indifference  and 
crueltj'  to  lei  its  circulation  depend  upon  the 
uiuHU'tain  efforts  of  a  few  believers,  while  vast 
multitudes  are  in  the  mean  time  left  to  perish 
through  lack  of  knowledge — wliat  a  sad  re- 
flection upon  the  benevolence  of  a  supreme 
Being!  Christians,  however,  continue  to  boast 
of  the  triumphs  of  grace — meagre  triumphs 
according  to  the  means  used.  Give  me  money 
and  men,  give  me  but  one  fiftieth  part  of 
what  is  actually  wasted  in  efforts  to  Christian- 
bA\  and  I  will  Mormonize  Manchester,  Brah- 
mini/.e  Bristol,  and  the  praises  of  Mohammed 
and  the  Koran  shall  be  sung  in  the  streets  of 
London.  Give  me  ample  means  and  resolute 
men,  and  I  can  establish  any  system  !  Christi- 
anity has  already  had  full  sway  for  centuries. 
Ivinjrs  have  been  its  nursing  fathers,  it  has 
had  almost  uni)roc(!dented  popularity,  and  has 
become  imperial  in  wealth,  power,  and  in- 
tolerance ;  yet  oven  now;  refulgent  as  it  may 
seem,  let  candid  nuiu  but  fairly  investigate  its 
claims,  and  they  will  as  surely  reject  its  au- 
thority. 

"  The  best  years  of  my  life  have  been  spent 


170 


EXETKR    HALL. 


:< 

o 


in  an  endeavor  to  mako  others  believe  what 
I  could  not  understand  myself.  Wliat  years 
of  trial  many  of  tlicse  liave  been  to  me !  and 
what  mental  torture  I  have  sutlered  contend- 
in  j?  with  theological  absurdities  !  Invest ijjfa- 
tionhas,  however,  satisfied  me,  as  it  has  a  host 
of  others;  and  as  soon  as  tht;  fallacious  pre- 
tensions of  the  Christian  creed  are  mor»»  fully 
examined  and  exposed,  tliey  will  be  rejectcnl, 
and  will  follow  the  course  of  other  popular 
delusions  which  have  had  their  day." 

'*  That  will  bo  the  case.  1  was  once  as  jyreat 
a  stickler  for  tlujui  venerable  chaptern  of  in- 
spiration as  any  man  livin'r;  the  Bible  I  im- 
agined was  law,  physic,  and  divinity,  and 
every  thinj;  else ;  what  I  couldn't  under- 
stand at  oUt}  tin\(!,  I  thought  I'd  be  able  to 
make  out  at  anc^Uier,  I  used  to  read  and  read, 
and  felt  mighty  cheap  at  times  when  I  couldn't 
riddle  out  the  meaning ;  still  I  b'lieved,  and 
still  I  doubted  ;  then,  after  a  time,  I  begun  to 
think  that  something  wasn't  all  right — 'twas 
I,  of  course,  was  rather  slacli — and  socm  as 
a  doubt  came,  so  soon  was  I  bound  to  find  out 
the  exact  truth.  Guess  I  had  a  lively  time  of 
it  for  a  while ;  but  at  last  truth  cunie,  and 
truth  in  the  end  was  too  much  for  the  Ihble. 
I've  be(!n  among  Christian  men  and  womisn 
since  I  was  so  high,  through  York  State, 
and  Pennsylvania,  and  Ne w- Jersey,  and  numy 
other  places  —  among  E))is("i)alians,  Metho- 
dists, Presbyterians,  Baptist .  id  twenty  other 
different  kinds;  good  Lord  I  iliey'rc  all  alike, 
the  people  never  think;  vligious  folks,  in  one 
way,  are  all  of  a  stripe — they  just,  nine  out 
of  ten  of  'em  b'leeve  what  they're  told,  ])ny 
little  or  much  right  down,  and  ask  no  ques 
tions.  And  then  there's  the  preachers  or 
ministers,  or  wliatever  you  like  to  tall  them, 
pretty  well  stuck  up,  most  of  them  living  at 
their  ease — despots  and  exclusives  in  a  small 
•way — I  won't  say  all  of  them,  but  pretty 
much  all ;  some  of  them  are  sincere  enough, 
but  others  are  chuck  full  of  the  old  Adam  ; 
they  hitch  right  on  and  take  to  sinning  quite 
natural-like  ;  they  an't  often  stuck  when  tliey 
want  to  start,  they  pitch  right  in,  and  then 
when  they  fall  from  grace,  they  talii  about 
remorse  and  make  out  to  feel  rather  cheaj) ; 
but  when  there's  a  general  row,  and  when  it 
gets  into  the  papers,  or  if  the  business  is 
pretty  scaly,  they  sometimes  quietly  slij) 
cable,  make  tracks,  or  go  oft'  just  like  our 
friend  the  moderator." 

"  No  doul)t  Harry  was  surpriso'd  when  he 
heard  of  that — he  must  have  seen  it  in  the  ])a- 
pers.  All'  sure  1  know  something  of  the  cler- 
gy, but  let  them  go  for  the  present.  Ilerci  we 
are  in  sweet  old  Cove  once  more;  but  sure 
now  'tis  Queenstown— still  the  place  is  all  the 
same— thi'y  can't  change  that.  See,  there's 
the  guard-ship,  and  that  <)n(!  over  the  way  is 
the  liulk  or  prison-ship.  I'M  warrant  they've 
got  more  than  one  Irish  rebel  on  board  I'or  ex- 
jiortation — wi.'ll,  <iod  help  the  poor  fellows  ! 
and  there's  vessels,  big  and  little,  bound  lor  the 
four  quarters  of  the  woi Id.  Isn't  this  a  har- 
bor fit  for  paradise?  'tis,  faith,  if  there  is 
such  a  place,  and  I  hope  there  is.  Look  at 
that  old  eliurch  away  up  on  the  hill,  and 
strecits  and  houses,  like  huge  stei)S  of  stairs, 
rising  up  from  the  water.     You're  sure  to  find 


churches  wherever  you  go;  like  the  cler- 
gy, they  are  fond  of  elevated  positions. 
"I'is  no  great  matter  in  Irehvnil  whetber 
there's  a  congregation  or  not — wlusre  there's 
a  church,  there  must  be  a  salary.  But 
what  have  I  got  to  do  witli  churches  now? 
I'm  no  longer  a  priest,  but  a  poor  pariah ;  I 
will  no  more  urge  the  erection  of  temples, 
but  do  what  I  can  to  undermine  th(>  stately 
fabric  of  superstition.  Ay,  there's  the  old 
sod,  the  fine  green  fields  again  ;  I  some  way 
think  it  do(!8  one  gooil  to  step  on  luitive  soil 
Psha!  how  hard  'tis  to  get  rid  of  old  notions. 
What  's  country  or  creed  to  me  now'?  just 
oh!  notions,  nothing  more.  A  subdivided 
world  is  hostile  to  humanity.  Henceforth,  I 
shall  humbly  tread  in  the  footHte])s  of  that 
true  friend  of  man,  who  said,  '  Tlic  world 
is  my  country,  to  do  good  my  religicm.'  " 

After  Mr.  l'a\)vl  left  Kngland,  his  loss  was 
not  only  felt  by  the  family  at  Ilampstead.but 
also  in  a  particular  manner  by  the  K(!V.  Mr. 
McUlinu.  That  tottering  ])illar  of  the  Boman 
Ciiurch  found  himself  almost  alone.  Mr. 
Capel  was  a  com])ani<  n  to  whom  he  could 
freely  unburden  his  mind,  and  from  whom, 
he  well  knew  lie  would  receive  sympathy. 
An  apparent  conformity  to  the  doctrinc^s  and 
ci'remonies  of  his  church  liad  already  become 
insupiiortable,  and  a  thorough  inv(?stigation 
into  tlie  claims  of  the  Bible  had  saiisfitMl  him 
that  Christianity  was  based  upon  a  false  foun- 
dation. He  never  studied  the  problem  which 
no  doubt  deters  many  others — how  am  I  to 
live  if  I  resign  my  cluirge  ?  but,  triu^tohis  own 
honest  nature,  he  decided  to  leave  the  church 
and  renounci'  the  faith,  to  take  his  chance 
among  thinking  nu'U,  and  to  warn  others 
against  the  pretensions  f)f  creed  and  authority 
nf  inspiration.  Yet,  though  he  loved  truth,  he 
dreaded  the  obloquy  which  would  follow  his 
deserilon  of  the  faith.  Surroundoii  ;\;-,  h,.-  was 
by  thorougii  adiierents  of  the  church,  he  had 
not  one  in  whom  toconlidc;  ;  and  when  he  men- 
tioned a  doubt,  or  threw  out  a  hint  respecting 
his  unbelief,  he  was  only  laugh(;d  at  by  bro- 
ther priests,  who  could  not  admit  that  he  was 
serious. — Wasn't  he  an  eccentric — sure  ho 
was  controversial  Tom,  and  drunk  or  sober  he 
had  a  leaning  for  argument  ;  when  the  Pro- 
testant was  routed,  he  would  attack  the  Papist 
— any  thing  i'or  argument.  So  the  ])riest8  of 
^loor  fields  still  thought;  but  Father  Tom  was 
in  some  res])ects  a  very  changed  man — he  had 
become!  abstemious,  and  instead  of  festive  de- 
bates {>r  pod  prandial  polemics,  he  ventured 
on  skepticism  ;  but  were  his  clerical  friends 
even  satisficil  of  his  total  unbelief,  tliey  would 
have  had  more  consideration  for  him  than  if  he 
had  merely  changed  his  faith.  To  lea\  '•  the 
mother  church  for  "  Luther's  bantling  of  :ipoB- 
tasy  "  would,  in  their  oiiinion.  l)e  an  eoleBi- 
astical  crimi',  not  to  be  forgiven  in  this  world 
or  the  n(>xt.  Anyway,  Mr.  Mcljllinn  was  do- 
tcrmined  tobefrei; ;  and.  as  he  had  businc-s  in 
Ireland  about  that  time,  he  notified  the  bi^nop, 
and  received  tlu^  usual  ]>erniit-r-ion.  lie  de- 
sired to  depart  in  jieace,  and  let  the  anathema 
of  exconimunication  al'terwurd  follow. 

Having  therelon^  made  u])  his  mind  to 
leave  .Loudon,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Capel,  from 
whom  he  had  lately  received  a  letter;  tleir 


EXETER  HALL. 


171 


0  tlu^  clor. 

1  poflitiims. 
1(1  Avhctlicr 
her(5  there's 
ilury.  But 
rchfs  now? 
r  pari  nil ;  I 
of  temples, 

the  stately 

e's  the  old 

I  soiMo  way 

native  soil 

old  notions. 

now'?  just 

subdivided 

henceforth ,  I 

ei)s  of  that 

'  The  world 

rjion.'  " 

nis  loss  was 

iipstead.but 

lie  K(;v.  Mr. 

■  th»!  Konian 

alone.     Mr. 

ni  he  could 

Toni  whom, 

:  sympathy. 

ctrim^s  and 

■ady  become 

ivestijjation 

;Vtisli(!d  him 

a  false  fonn- 

bleni  which 

f)w  am  I  to 

le  to  his  own 

the  churcTi 

his  chance 

an>    others 

id  authority 

■(■(!  truth, he 

1  follow  his 

1  :\::  lio  was 

ich,  he  had 

Kii  ho  men- 

resjiecting 

at  l)y  bro- 

that  he  was 

— sure    ho 

or  sober  he 

n  the  I'ro- 

the  Papist 

])riest8  of 

r  Tom  was 

an — he  had 

festive  de- 

e  ventured 

■al  friends 

licv  would 

I  Ilian  if  ho 

lca\i'  the 

nfj  of   :l])0B- 

an   iM  1  Icsi- 
this  world 
nn  \>as  do- 
jusini  "■'^  in 
till'  biMiop, 
.      lie  de- 
anathema 
>\v. 

1  mind  to 
'ajiel,  from 
tter;  their 


positions  were  similar.  lie  had  not  yet  dc 
eided  as  to  his  future  courst^ ;  he  was  conii)ara- 
tively  iK)or,  so  was  Mr.  Capel  ;  not  only  would 
people  of  his  late  ci  i-d  look  coldly  on  him, 
but  Christians  as  a  body  would  mark  their  dis- 
trust, and  perhai)S  attriltule  any  tliin^r  but 
the  purest  motives  for  his  rejection  of 
the  faith.  II(!  would  now  be  obliged  to  stem 
the  current  ajruinst  which  he  had  faced  ;  this 
he  was  willing  to  do  ;  and  as  something  must 
be  done  to  earn  a  livelihood,  he  wrott!  to  consult 
Ills  friend,  who  himself  was  rather  irresolute; 
it  ni'trht  be  that  th»'y  could  unite  in  opening 
a  si  iiool  or  seminary,  or  iu  establishing 
an  institution  of  the  kind  ;  an  1  if  the 
spirit  of  intolerance  interfered  with  their  su(^- 
cess  iu  their  native  land,  why,  the  world  was 
wide,  and  they  could  cross  the  sea.  This  was 
the  purport  of  the  letter  which  he  had  dis- 
patched to  Mr.  Capel ;  he  had  about  a  week  y(!t 
to  remain  before  he  could  com'deto  his  ar- 
rangements, and  iu  the  mean  time  he  thought 
it  his  duty  to  pay  perhaps  a  last  visit  to  his 
friend  Mr.  Mannors,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
but  onco  since  the;  departure  of  Mr.  Capel. 

No  one  could  have  received  a  greater  wel- 
come at  Heath  Cottage.  Mr.  Mannors,  cheer- 
ful as  ever,  met  him  at  the  garden-gate,  and 
after  a  hearty  shako  of  the  hand,  gave  him  a 
good-natured  reproof  for  ^\hsit  he  called  his 
desertion.  What  a  ])leasj|R  home  !  tiven  af- 
ter the  dreary  visits  of  sorrow,  the  sunlight 
streamed  vlown  and  seemed  to  renew  happi- 
ness within  the  dwelling.  Still  there  was 
a  want — Harry  was  away;  Mr.  Med  linn  had 
never  been  there  before  but  in  his  company, 
and,  though  it  was  springtime  again,  he 
thought  of  the  gloomy  November  day  when 
they  lioth  left  the  place  together.  And  then 
how  changed  Miss  Mannors  looked  ;  there  was 
a  eadness  iu  h'-r  appearance,  yet  how  warmly 
she  ])ressed  his  hand,  and  how  earnestly  she 
asked  him  if  he  had  oftcui  heard  from  Ireland, 
and  tlicn,  after  a  little  hesitation,  how  she 
had  even  ventured  to  mention  Mr.  Capel's 
name. 

'"Oh!  he  has  forgotten  us,"  said  Mr.  Man- 
nors," as  you  almost  did  yourself.  What  do 
you  think,  only  one  solitary  hotter  from  him 
since  he  left  us — indeed,  that  was  scarcely  a 
letter,  a  few  expressions  of  gratitude  for  all  I 
had  done  for  him,  but  at  the  same  time  posi- 
tively declining  the  only  little  favor  I  ever 
tried  to  bestow.  Indeed,  it  could  scarcely  b(( 
called  a  favor;  when  he  was  going  away,  I 
inclosed  a  check  for  a  hundred  ])ounds — mere- 
ly as  a  loan  if  he  liked.  I  did  not  tell  him 
at  the  time  what  it  was;  I  told  him  not  to 
open  th(!  letter  until  he  got  to  Ireland,  but 
in  less  than  a  week  after  he  left,  back  came 
my  check,  and  we  have  never  heard  from 
him  since.  Now,  Father  MctHinn,  isn't  that 
ungrateful '?" 

"  Well,  ui«)n  my  sowl,  1  rather  like  it.  But 
begging  your  pardon,  Mr.  Maniu)r-<,  don't  fii- 
tlirr  me  any  more — I'm  done  with  all  that. 
When  you  saw  me  last  in  town,  you  might  have 
giu'.sse'd  at  what  was  going  to  hnopen — you 
remember  what  I  told  you.  ^^'ell,  sir,  at 
this  blessed  numient  I'm  an  independent 
heathen  at  your  service  ;  faith,  in  one  sense 
not  very  indepe.Mlent  either,  but  any  way 
free  from  all  ecclei.iastical  bonds,  and  quite 


Indifferent  to  interdicts.  W»;ll,  ovon  that's 
something  to  bonst  of,  after  nearly  fifty 
years  of  servility  to  an  idea.  Yes,  I  admit 
it  looks  ungrateful  on  Harry's  pari,  but,  Lord 
bless  you  !  you  don't  know  him.  Poor  fi-llow' ! 
the  day  ho  left  hero  with  me  was,  I'm  sure, 
the  most  miserable  one;  of  his  existence  ;  ! 
saw  it,  he  could  scarcely  speak,  and  when 
the  big  tear.-f  stf)o<l  in  his  eyes  as  wo  were 
parting,  he  spoke  of  you  as  having  been  a 
mo.st  generous  benefactor,  nid  of  you,  Misa 
Manners,  as  being  an  angel  of  light — faith,  he 
did.  Ungrateful!  not  a  hit  of  t.  Ih;  may 
be  troubleil  perhaps  with  a  little  Irish  jiride, 
or  he  may  have  too  much  si)irit,  but  notliing 
lik(!  ingratitude.  If  you  were  to  see  liis  loi- 
ters— indeed,  I  once  told  him  he  sliould  diredt 
them  to  you  instead  of  to  me — neai-Jy  all 
about  Hampstead  and  Heath  Cottage,  and 
Mr.  Mannors,  and  his  angel  daughter." 

"  Well,  well,  he's  a  strange  fellow;  I  \\n\Mi 
Nve  haven't  g"t  rid  of  him  altogether.  Yes, 
Mr.  McHlinn,  I  remember  our  last  conversa- 
sion  in  the  city,  and  t  am  not  surprised  at 
the  result — I  sincerely  congratulate  you  upon 
your  mental  freedom;  and  now  I  trust  you 
ar(>  going  to  renuiin  with  us  a  f"w  days,  and 
not  leave  us  in  a  hurrv,  as  your  friond  Capel 
did." 

"Remain!  there's  not  much  for  me  now 
but  leave-taking  ;  sure,  I  daren't  stay  here, 
besides,  haven't  I  Harry's  last  letter  hurrying 
me  away  'I  Somehow,  t  don't  think  he's  at  all 
happy  in  Ireland  ;  he  wants  to  try  the  other 
end  of  the  world,  and  wishes  to  consult  mo 
about  going  to  Australia." 

Miss  Mannors  hail  to  blush  onco  or  twice 
during  the  conversation  ;  now,  from  some  sud- 
den caus(>,  she  grew  pale  and  faint,  and  a 
dimness  affected  her  sight. 

"Aust  nilia  !  Why,  who  (!ver  heard  the  like  of 
that  ?  Just  think,  Pop,  of  the  man  going  away, 
away  to  Australia,  like  a  romantic  missionary, 
perhaps  to  be  devoured  by  Christianized 
savages  !     How  long  has  he  had  that  notion  1" 

"  'Pon  my  word,  I  ciin't  exactly  say — not 
long,  anyway.  You  see  he  hasn't  been  v(;ry 
successful — numy  of  his  old  religious  friends 
gave  him  the  cold  shoulder.  He's  very  sensi- 
tive, and,  to  my  surprise,  has  lately  be- 
come rather  anxious  for  wealth.  I  know  that 
since  he  left  here,  Hampstead  has  Ix-on  often 
iu  his  dreaMis  ;  and  now,  as  if  there  was  some 
connection  therewith,  h<'  dreams  of  gold,  ho 
would  like  to  grow  suddenly  rich — yet  a  thou- 
sand pounds  will  do  him  ;  and  as  there  is  no 
jiossible  chance  of  finding  or  making  such  a 
sum  here,  he  is  willing  to  seek  it  in  far-off 
xVustralia." 

"Ah!  what  a  foolish  dreamer,  Avhen  he  might 
be,  perhaps,  much  more  successful  nearer 
home.  How  does  he  know  but  some  Avell-to- 
do  relative  would  turn  up,  and  save  him  such 
a  long  voyage  V  Well,  we  must  see  to  this  ;  I 
do  not  Avant  to  have  mend)ers  of  ^«,y  church 
scattered  about ;  we,  too,  have  a  labor  of  love 
to  perform,  we  must  act  as  missionaries  in  a 
noble  cause,  but  let  us  first  attend  to  the  en- 
slaved and  unconverted  in  Britain — here  isthe 
stronghold  of  the  enemy.  And  now,  Mr.  Mc- 
Olinn,  while  you  and  I  try  to  devise  some 
plan  to  keep  our  increasing  flock  together, 
perhaps  you,  Miss  Pop,  might  consult  your 


m<l| 


172 


EXETER    HALL. 


its 
41 


His!;""* 

■O 


r:T" 


I    '-7 


■f 


lejyal  advisor,  should  ho  favor  us  with  anotlier 
visit.  Mr.  Hross  ini^ht  be  aljlo  to  su^jjrat 
how  we  can  lawfully  pnivcnt  Mr.  Capel  from 
wandeiinj;  away  to  distant  lands.'* 

Dopressod  as  Mr.  McUlinn  must  have  been 
at  the  tiuio  he  called  to  pay  this  last  visit, 
the  short  stay  he  made  at  Ilanipstead  served 
greatly  to  cheer  his  spirits,  and  to  give  him 
confidence  in  the  future.  His  benevolent  host 
Mas  ever  ho[»eful,  and  ever  anxious  to  forward 
the  interests  of  the  deserving.  It  was  most 
gratifying  to  learn  that  the  health  of  Mrs. 
Mannors  was  very  much  improved,  and  that 
there  was  every  probability  of  her  complete 
and  speedy  restoration  ;  during  the  last  mouth, 
there  had  been  a  markcnl  improvement.  He 
had  also  the  pleasure  of  meeting  his  American 
friend,  Mr.  Samuel  Styles,  the  late  keeiwr  at 
the  Home.  Doctor  Buster's  career  was  freely 
discussed  ;  his  death  had  caused  a  great  sensa- 
tion iu  the  religious  world,  and  almost  to  the 
last,  a  certain  pious  journal  in  tlie  Presbyti'dan 
interest  persisted -in  asserting  that  the  un- 
timely end  of  the  estinuible  and  talented 
moderator  was  the  sad  result  of  insanity,  in- 
duced by  the  systematic  persecution  of  certain 
noted  infidels,  aided,  it  was  to  be  deplored,  by  a 
few  jealous  sectarians  who  claimed  to  be 
ministers  and  servants  of  the  living  (iod.  The 
Kev.  Andrew  Campbell  also  favorea  such  re- 
ports ;  but  his  ojjinion  was  somewhat  altered 
Avhen  he  made  the  very  unydeasant  discovery 
that  he  was  held  responsible  to  the  city  bank 
for  a  thousand  pounds,  drawn  by  the  late  Doctor 
Buster  a  day  or  two  before  his  death.  Other 
revelations  also  tended  to  place  the  defunct 
inoderator  in  no  very  enviable  light,  and  for 
some  time  afterward  when  church-members, 
and  br('tlirt;n,  and  sisters,  still  strong  in  the 
Lord,  ventured  to  allude  to  their  once  re- 
nowned ])reacher — their  denominaticmal  idol 
— they  were  wont  to  exclaim,  "Alas  !  alas !  how 
are  the  mighty  fallen." 

Before  the  ex-priest  took  his  departure  from 
Hampstead,  it  was  arranged  that  Mr.  Styles, 
who  was  desirous  of  visiting  Ireland,  should 
accompany  him ;  this  was  most  agreeable. 
And  as  Mr.  Mannors  was  recommended  to 
give  his  wife  the  benefit  of  change  of  air 
and  change  of  scene,  being  anxious  to  see 
Mr.  Capel  again,  he  thowght  a  trip  to  Ireland 
would  be  just  the  thing.  To  the  delight  of 
Mr.  McOlhin,  he  therefore  promised  that  ho 
and  his  wife  and  daughter  would  meet  them 
m  Cork  on  the  first  of  May.  The  aiUicted 
widow  of  the  late  Doctor  Buster  and  her  only 
child  had  been  kindly  cared  for  at  Heath  Cot- 
tage ;  about  two  weeks  previously,  they  had 
been  taken  by  friends  to  Bristol. 

The  two  travelers  who  had  lu'ld  a  conversa- 
tion on  ihe  deck  of  tlie  steauier  have  no 
doubt  been  recognized  as  Father  Tom  and 
his  American  friend.  Styles ;  they  lauded  in 
QueeniJtown,  and,  having  remained  a  day  iu 
that  favorite  resort,  started  again  on  a  fine 
spring  morning.  As  they  passed  up  the  river, 
the  scenery  along  the  banks  of  the  "  pleasant 
waters  "  seemed  enchanting;  in  an  hour  or 
two  they  heard  the  melody  of  the  Shandon 
bells,  and  found  one  true  friend  to  give  them 
a  cordial  greeting  on  their  arrival  in  the  j 
"  Beautiful  City."  I 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Mns.  Mannous  was  at  Hampstead  again, 
mentally  restored,  but  still  rather  weak  and 
worn  after  months  of  dreary  cimfinement, 
and  after  the  ju'culiar  treatment  to  which  she 
had  been  Hul»jected  in  that  other  Home,  out 
of  which  comparatively  few  indeed  had  ever 
escai)ed.  Oh  !  how  grateful  she  f«;lt  for  the 
blessing  of  reason.  She  had  but  a  dim 
recollection  of  her  long  restraint,  yet  she 
guessed  at  the  sad  truth  ;  painful  to  her  nuiino- 
ry,  it  recurred  like  a  confus^nl,  dismal  dream. 
Yes,  she  was  home  and  restored,  and  at  times 
she  almost  wept  at  what  seenuid  to  be  to  her  a 
fresh  evidence  of  mercy.  Anotlu^r  glorious 
morning  had  again  appeared,  she  could  !■  )ok  up 
to  the  mild  heavens  and  see  the  early  lark  soar- 
ing in  tho  blue  sky.  Springtime  liad  again 
returned  with  its  budding  beauty  ;  slie  could 
see  the  garden -walks  fringed  once  more  with 
the  variegated,  ornamental  work  of  nature,  and 
she  could  even  look  calmly  upon  the  distant 
glittering  cross  of  St.  Paul's,  and  watch  the 
sunlight  Hinging  beams  over  tho  Surrey  hills  ; 
yet  nothing  visionary  came  to  disturb  her 
imagination — it  was  hai)pines8.  She  was 
again  in  her  own  pleasant  cottage  ;  there  were 
those  around  her  who  showed  the  nu)st  aflec- 
tionate  care,  and  nothing  was  left  undone  to 
win  her  back  to^hcerfulness :  even  Flounce 
seemed  doubly  attached ;  he  followed  her 
about,  and  in  short,  quick  barks  tried  to  nuike 
her  understand  his  d(!light.  She  was  still 
religious,  but  that  feeling  came  back  in  si, 
subdued  form,  more  under  the  control  of  her 
reason.  She  had  an  increased  regard  for  her 
husband,  but  as  yet  none  of  her  old  anxiety 
concerning  his  conversion.  At  first  she  won- 
dered Avhat  had  become  of  Mr.  Capel ;  it 
seemed  strange  that  he  shonld  not  be  there 
to  greet  her,  and  she  fancied  that  he  was  still 
away  on  the  circuit  calling  sinners  to  repent- 
ance ;  and  then  often  as  she  thought  of  her 
dear,  lost  boy — her  great  bereavement — her 
true  maternal  nature  ])aid  its  repeatcnl  tribute 
to  his  memory.  As  for  poor  Hannah,  she  was 
delighted ;  what  pleasure  she  anticipated  in 
again  being  privileged  to  give  a  relation  of 
her  spiritual  trials  and  conHicts  to  her  best 
friend,  and  though  particularly  warned  to  say 
little  or  nothing  to  luir  mistress  on  the  sub- 
ject of  religion,  she  could  scarcely  withhold 
pious  ejaculations,  and,  as  soon  as  she  was 
alone,  she  would  conunenco  with  renewed 
vigor  to  praise  the  Lord  and  take  a  look  at 
John  Bunyan. 

It  was  now  the  end  of  April ;  in  a  few  days 
they  would  start  for  Ireland.  Mr.  Mannors 
had  made  evi^y  necessary  arrangement,  and 
he  anticipated  good  results  from  tlie  excur- 
sion. His  wife  would,  no  doubt,  be  greatly 
benefited,  and  for  certain  reasons  he  was 
particularly  desirous  of  uuietiug  Mr.  Capel ; 
indtH'd,  what  he  had  heard  from  Mr.  Mc(jlinn 
only  made  hiiu  more  anxious  in  this  particular, 
and  it  did  not  lessen  him  iu  his  estimation  ; 
he  was  rathtu*  more  strongly  impress(Hl  with 
tho  idea  that  his  daughter's  hnppiue8sd»>pend- 
ed  a  good  deal  upon  tlie  course  which  that  gen. 
erous  young  man  nught  determine  to  pursue 
Ue  never  mentioned  this  matter  to  Mrs.  Man, 


\ii 


EXETER    HALL. 


173 


!ad  n^ain, 
wciiik  aiul 
liini'iiunt, 
vvhidi  sho 
lIoiiK^,  out 

luid  ever 
•It  for  tho 
it  a  (liiu 
t,  yet  »bo 
ln-r  moiuo- 
lal  dream. 
(I  at  times 
he  to  her  a 
p  glorious 
lUi  liokup 

lark  soar- 
liad  a<rain 

pile  could 
more  with 
lature,  and 
he  distant 
watch  the 
rrey  hills  ; 
isturb  her 

yiio  was 
there  were 
most  aft'ec- 
und(mo  to 
n  Flounce 
owed  her 
n\  to  make 

was  still 
back  in  a, 

rol  of  her 
ird  for  her 
Id  anxiety 
t  she  won- 

Capel ;  it 
t  be  there 
e  was  still 

0  rei)ent- 
it  of  her 

nent — her 
■d  tribute 
she  was 
pated   in 

1  at  ion  of 
her  best 

led  to  say 
the  sub- 

witlihold 
she  was 
renewed 

a  look  at 

few  days 
Mannors 
nent,  and 
le  excur- 
jvreatly 
he  was 
•.  Capel ; 
iMcUlinn 
articular, 
tiiniition  ; 
8(h1  with 
s  d(>pend. 
that  acn. 
o  pursue^ 
Irs.  ManJ 


nors;  ho  felt  somewhat  reluctant,  he  wished 
to  wait  until  it  was  jjerhaps  more  matured. 
lie  well  knew  that  she  had  Ijecn  very  jiartial 
toward  the  youn;;  [)reacher,  and  thoiijfii  sh(> 
had  heard  of  his  resignation  and  expulsion, 
still  her  discriminati(m  led  her  f  o  lu-lieve  him  in 
natural  dispotsitirm  to  be  one  of  the  excellent  of 
tho  earth.  She,  of  course,  regretted  his  apos- 
tasy ;  however,  she  could  make  an  allowance 
for  his  d(  lection,  for  she  was  im  lined  to  think 
that  Mr.  Baker  had  been  too  peremptory  un<l 
seven; ;  but.  uotwithstandinjjf  what  had  passed, 
she  entertained  hf)pes  that  at  st^me  future  day 
Mr.  Capel  would  return  to  the  church  like  a 
rej)entant  prodi^jal. 

Tinii'  flew  by  ;  they  Avere  to  leave  home  next 
day.  Hannah,  and  another  jnous  woman,  and 
liobert  were  to  remain  in  charije  of  the;  house  ; 
the  family  mi^ht  be  a  week  or  two  away.  One 
who  was  to  bt;  left  thouffht  such  a  chance  a 
godsend,  and  she  had  resolved  to  make  the 
most  of  it.  Hannah  i)rivately  determined  that 
when  she  had  the  place  to  herself  she  would 
disregard  all  iirotestatic^ns  from  Robert  or  any 
one  (ilse.  and  tumble  out,  scrub,  and  overhaul 
every  tiling  she  could  lay  hands  on  ;  she  an- 
ticipat«;d  a  term  of  delijrhtful  confusion,  and, 
eajjer  for  her  task,  she  was  impatient  to  have 
full  control  of  the  premises. 

Trunks  and  boxes  had  at  last  been  packed, 
and  every  one  had  retired  #ir  the  nijjht ;  re- 
lK)se  came  to  all  others,  but  Mary  Mannors 
could  not  sleep.  It  was  an  hour  of  stillness  ; 
she  sat  at  her  window  and  looked  out  ])ensive- 
ly  uj)on  the  calm,  moonlit  scenery.  The  tall 
trees  were  motionless,  and  their  younj^  leaves 
scarcely  stirred  in  the  soft  whispers  of  the 
night  air.  What  were  her  thoughts'?  Per- 
haps in  less  than  another  week  she  would 
know  her  fate — she  would  learn  that  which 
might  juake  her  either  hajipy  or  wretched  for- 
ever. She  loved — was  it  a  flower  that  Avas 
doomed  to  wither  prematurely  V  She  hid  the 
flume  from  ail,  and  now  it  was  consuming  her 
own  bosc^m.  Alone  she  could  think  of  llenry 
Capel,  and  she  was  thinking  of  him  now. 
AViiat  if  he  had  truly  determined  to  leave  all 
and  go  to  a  distant  land  ?  She  well  knew  that 
if  one  word  from  her  could  bid  him  stay  :  she 
could  not  speak  it — she  could  not  even  by  one 
word  avert  her  doom.  Yet  she  had  hopes  ;  she 
had  been  greatly  encouraged  by  what  Mr.  Mc- 
(ilinn  had  said  about  his  friend.  Did  he  not 
write  often  about  Hampstead,  and  allude  to 
her  as  bising  an  angel,  and  tlien  was  he  not 
anxituis  to  get  rich  ?  What  could  that  be  for  V 
She  had  often  and  often  heard  him  say  that 
lie  cared  not  for  wealth,  that  lie  conld  be  sat- 
isfied with  a  modest  portion,  Avitli  an  humble 
home  and  peace  of  mind.  Could  it  be  possi- 
ble that. he  wished  to  get  rich  for  her  sake? 
Would  that  that  were  his  desire !  She  would 
then  tell  him,  yes,  tell  him  how — but,  alas! 
her  lips  would  be  scialed  ;  she  could  never  tell 
him  how  dear  he  would  be  to  her,  even  were 
he  in  the  most  abject  poverty.  No  ;  it  might 
be  that  at  their  nt;xt  interview,  should  he  tell 
her  of  his  intended  voyage,  she  would  seem 
only  a  little  surprised,  might  appear  quite  in- 
ditTerent,  and  then  that  wretched  simulation 
might  drive  him  away  forever.  Poor  Mary! 
she  soon  forgot  her  troubles  in  quiet  slumbers, 


,  and  bright  dreams  again  brought  visions  of 
j  happiness. 

'I'liey  had   been    nearly  a   week    in  Cork. 
1  What  a  meeting  of  true  friends !     It  was  a 
wi.-ek  of  happiness  to  Mr.  Mannors,  a  week 
j  of  great  restoratitm  to  his  wife,  and  a  lu'riod 
I  of  almost  perfect  bliss  to  two  young  persona 
wlios|)ent  much  time  together.    Mr.  ^lc(^linn 
;  began  to  see  matters  in  a  different  light ;  the 
i  i)roposals  he  had  made  to  his  friend  Harry 
I  conc(!rning  a  seminary  were  likely  to  be  ren- 
I  dered  futile  by  the  proposal  which  he  fancied 
that  that  young  gtmtlenian  would  very  prob- 
ably soon  make  himself  to  another   person. 
He  began  to  suspect  something  of  this  kind, 
and  at  the  first  ojiportunity  he  gave  a  sly  hint 
to  Mr.  Capel,  which  made  liim   blush  like  a 
girl.     Samuel    Styles    evidently   understood 
what  was  going  on,  and  rather  increased  the 
young  man's  diffidence  by  telling  him  with 
the  most  serious  face  to  go  ahead,  at  the  same 
time  giving  a  side  nod  toward  Miss  Mannors  ; 
and  it  was  plainly  seen  that  Mr.  Mannors  favor- 
ed the;  intercourse  which  he  saw  was  so  satis- 
factory to  all,  and  which  for  a  long  time  it  had 
been  his  own  desire  to  establish. 

The  strangers  were  delighted  with  the  city 
and  its  attractive  environs  ;  they  had  been 
from  Black  Rock  to  Ballincollig  at  Glanniire 
and  at  Sundays- Well,  and  at  other  places  of 
resort ;  everywhere  the  scenery  was  most 
charming.  Mr.  Manners  projiosed  to  visit  an 
old  friend  in  Mallow,  but  as  Mrs.  Mannors 
wished  to  see  the  Lakes  of  Killarney,  it  was 
agreed  that  Samuel  Styles  should  acc(mipany 
Mr.  Mannors,  while  Mr.  Capel,  much  to  his 
satisfaction,  was  to  escort  the  ladies.  Mr. 
McGlinn  had  business  to  detain  him  in  the 
city,  and  he  would  await  their  return. 

In  a  few  days  they  all  met  again.  Mrs. 
Mannors  could  scarcely  speak  of  any  thing 
else  until  she  had  told  the  same  story  over 
and  over  about  the  beauty  of  the  far-famed 
lak(^s  and  of  the  exquisite  scenery  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. Miss  Mary  had  nearly  filled  her 
l)orlfolio  with  sketches;  her  devoted  chaperon 
had  pointed  out  the  most  attractive  landscaj)cs, 
and  she  was  entirely  guided  by  him  in  tho 
selection  of  views ;  as  it  was,  she  somehow 
found  singular  difficulty  in  transferring  them 
to  papcjr  ;  but  they  would  answer  well  enough 
to  remind  her  in  after-years  of  some  of  the  hap- 
piest days  of  her  life.  During  their  stay,  they 
had  sailed  upon  the  crystal  waters  from  one 
fairy-like  spot  to  another,  they  had  had  little 
private  picnics  on  romantic  islands,  and  had 
visited  retreats  sacred  to  lovers'  vows. 
Whether  Henry  Capel  ever  had  an  opportunity 
of  taking  any  advantage  which  such  retreats 
might  have  afforded  and  of  finding  sufficient 
courage  to  make  an  avowal  on  his  own  account 
has  not  been  made  known  ;  as  far  as  this  was 
concerned,  he  was  rather  reticent ;  but  if  words 
did  not  reveal  the  secret,  there  was  a  tell-tale 
expression  in  his  face  wliich  might  fully  sat- 
isfy even  such  as  were  not  very  close  observers 
that  he  liad  most  probably  asked  some  partic- 
ular person  a  very  particular  favor,  and  that  it 
had  been  granted.  Any  way,  after  he  had  re- 
turned, nothing  more  was  heard  about  crossing 
the  stoTny  sea  or  of  going  to  Australia  ;  instead 
of  thni,  Lis  excursive  notions  wandered  no 


'^1 


174 


EXETER    HALL. 


,'•«•*' 


r** 


i-^;-^l 


further  than  "Blarney  " —  to  that  ph\co  ho  pro- 
posed a  visit.  Father  Tom  reconVucnded  him 
to  be  sure  and  kiss  the  famous  stone,  for  the 
salve  of  good  luclv  ;  after  that  he  would  acquire 
a  pi'culiar  kind  of  assurance,  and  might  ven- 
ture such  an  attempt  upon  a  softer  and  more 
impressivi!  substance. 

They  were  at  Ilam pstead  once  more.  During 
their  absence  Hannah  had  worked  wonders — 
every  thing  around  the  place  had  a  shiny, 
smiling  appearance  ;  every  piece  of  furniture 
looked  brisk  and  polished,  just  as  if  it  were  in- 
clined to  laugh  ;  the  garden  ai)peared  to  yield 
its  greatest  profusion  of  flowers,  the  birds 
to  sing  sweeter  and  loiider.  The  fountain 
gushed  up  higlier,  sparkling  in  the  clear  air 
like  liquid  light,  and  the  tall  trees,  crowned 
Avith  azure,  seemed  to  whisper  joyful  news  to 
each  other — murmuring  softly,  lest  the  listen- 
ing black  feathered  rooks  in  their  branches 
slunxld  overhear  the  tidings.  Nature  seemed 
to  have  come  out  in  holivlay  garb  ;  the  earth 
and  t'le  heavens  were  alike  serene  and  beau- 
tiful. 

Hannah  had  received  a  hint  that  tjicre 
might  ])robably  be  a  great  day  at  the  cottage, 
and  she  did  her  best  to  meet  the  occasion. 
Truly  she  had  succeeded  so  well  that  Mr. 
Mannors  himself  was  surprised  at  tlie  change ; 
upon  his  arrival  he  gave  her  a  gold  coin, 
which,  ■'.'ith  a  nice  pr  .sent  from  her  mistress, 
greatly  pleasixl  the  iidustrious  maid. 

Although  Henry  Capel  had  given  up  the 
notion  of  crossing  the  wide  sea,  yet  he  readily 
cros.sed  St.  George's  Channel  to  link  his  fate 
with  one  whom  to  gain  he  would  have  Avill- 
ingly  braved  the  dangers  of  a  thousand 
oceans,  in  order  to  try  and  procure  that 
thousand  nounds,  the  possession  of  which 
might  embolden  him  to  plead  for  the  hand 
that  was  soon  to  be  his.  Mr.  Mannors  had 
long  discovered  his  true  worth,  and  felt  as- 
sured that  one  so  noble  in  mind,  so  honorable 
in  conduct,  and  so  unseltish  as  he  had  already 
proved,  would  be  more  liki^ly  to  maktj  his 
daughter  hai)i)y  than  a  wealthy  suitor  wit  ii- 
out  such  sterling  jjrinciples ;  and  soon  as  he 
was  convinced  tiiat  Mary  Mannors  had  more 
than  an  ordinary  regard  for  Hinry  CajH'],  he 
made  a  legal  settlement  in  her  favor,  secur- 
ing to  her  Buflicient  property  to  place  her  in 
easy  circumstances.  He  had  lost  Ids  only  son, 
and  to  a  certain  extent  no  one  could  so  well 
fill  his  place  as  the  person  on  whom  his 
daughter  had  fixeu  her  atl'ections. 

The  day  had  been  named  when  the  wedding 
was  to  tiike  place.  Father  Tom — his  frii'nd 
Harry  woidd  call  him  nothing  else — had  been 
prevailed  upon  to  rrturn  with  the  little  party  ; 
Mr.  Mainioi's  would  hear  of  no  excuse.  Samuel 
Styles  would  hw  there,  and  a  select  few — every 
thing  v.as  settled.  A  beautiful  day  daw  led  ; 
the  sunb'.MUus  rushed  down  like  invited  guests, 
they  danced  in  the  garden,  flung  the  l'ragranc(! 
from  the  flowers,  and  tlusu  lin;,  red  around 
the  doorway,  lo(.\ed  in  a*:  the  windows,  and 
peejjed  into  every  place  Vt'heri'  a  shadow  might 
hide,  as  if  to  chase  it  away  ;  and  then  they 
Beemed  mingling  and  Jjliding  through  the 
pure  aiv  as  if  weav  ng  a  garland  of  light  for 
the  br)'.v  of  the  biide. 

The    Lonevoleut    Martin    Jlaunore     never 


looked  more  happy;  ho  was  radiant  with 
smiles,  and  his  wife  was  serene  and  cheerful. 
Father  Tom  felt  an  inspiration  of  wit,  and 
Mr.  Samuel  Styles  threatened  matrimony 
on  his  return  to  America.  The  young  people 
were  married,  there  was  a  sumi'tuous  repast, 
others  were  not  forgotten,  every  poor  family 
in  the  neighborhood  had  a  better  dinner  than 
usual  on  that  day,  and  many  of  the  homeless 
ones  were  seated  in  the  garden  and  fed  bounti- 
fully ;  and  when  Henry  Capel  and  his  bride 
entered  the  carriage  to  start  upon  a  wedding 
tour,  a  number  of  persons — young,  old,  healthy 
and  decrepit—who  had  assembled  on  the  road- 
side, regarded  the  married  pair  with  the  great- 
est interest,  and  the  murmured  wishes  for 
their  happiness  and  long  life  could  be  heard 
around  ;  and  when  at  last  the  vehicle  moved 
off  there  was  an  impulsive  cheer,  and  Father 
Tom,  who  stood  at  the  gate,  gave  a  lusty  shout, 
and  then,  with  considerable  force,  flung  an 
old  shoe  after  the  open  carriage,  which  most 
fortunately  just  escaped  the  bridegroom's 
head. 

The  May  meetings  at  Exeter  Hall  had  again 
taken   place.     The   great   Bible  Society  had 
once  in(n-e  made  its  annual  effort.     The  same 
distinguished  chairman  had    presided,  many 
of   the   lordly   and   reverend    speakers    had 
made  their  fresh  appeals,  and  almost  a  repe- 
tition of  the  san^  glowing  speeches  had  been 
delivered  exaltiiip^the  Great  Book,  and  show- 
ing what   had  been  done  for  the  benighted 
during  the  past  year.     The  widow's  mite,  the 
pe^ice  of  the  poor,  and  the  gold  of  the  weal- 
thy had  been  jjoured  into  the  treasury  of  thli 
Lord,  even  in  (excess  of  previous  years,  but 
still   the  receipts  were  wretchedly  dc'ficicnt. 
Sacerdotal  ingenuity  was  again  set  to  its  task, 
and  the  omnipotence  of  words  was  reipiired 
to  overwhelm    reason    and   conquer    hearts. 
Studied  meta]>hors,  perfected  flashes  of  ora- 
tory, ami  skillfully   prepared   fidminations — 
matured  masteriueces  of  burning  eloquence, 
as  if  fresh  creations  of  a  semi-insjiired  imagi- 
nation— had    been   flung  like    thiuuler-bolts 
among  the  mass  of  awe  (struck  hi-arers,  and 
I  had   again  aroused   the  echoes  of  the  great 
I  Hall,  and,  with  culminating  grandenr,  evoked 
the  feelings  of  an  almost  breathless  assembly. 
I  The  effect  was  produced  ;  help,  juoi'e  helji,  was 
i  re(iuired  in  the  cause  (tf  the  l^orl  against  the 
i  mighty,  and   liberal  aid   had  ..gain  been  se- 
cured to  fortify  j)riestcraft  and  in'olerance. 
I      Since  the  last  anniversary,  tlujv.sands,  it  was 
said,  had  ])erished  for  lack  of  knowledge,  and 
!  alas!  thousands  who  knew  not  tins  Lord  were 
now  on  the  road  to  eternal  ruin.     The;  mourn- 
ful cry,  Save  us,  save  us!  came  from  afar;  it 
was  a  shriek  of  woe,  an  alarm  that  should 
awake  to  jiowerful  action  entire  Christendom. 
Infideli.y  was  still  defiantly  holding  np  its  ac- 
,  cursed  jiead  ;  let  it  not  defile  the  land.     Bri- 
tish Christians  were   adjured   to   unite   in  n 
greater  effort  for  its  overthrow,  and  they  wer(! 
imi)lored    to  occupy  and  retain  their  present 
advanced  and  distinguished  position  in   the 
,  cause  of  the  glorious  Gosjx'l. 
''      Siu'h  were  tiie  delusiv*;  repetitions  of  Exe- 
I  ter   Hall.      Princely  ]irelates   and    richly  eii- 
I  dowed  priests  in  eloqiu-nt  flights  entreating 
i  the  orthodox  on  behalf  of  those  in  foreign 


idiant  with 
id  cheeifu]. 
of  wit,  and 
matrimony 
>unjr  people 
nous  repast, 
[)Oor  family- 
dinner  than 

10  homeless 
I  fed  bounti- 
id  his  bride 

a  wedding 
old,  healthy 
on  the  road- 
h  the  great- 
wishes  for 
Id  bo  heard 
bicle  moved 
and  Father 
lusty  shout, 
;e,  flung  an 
which  most 
iridegroom's 

11  had  again 
Society  had 

The  same 
=iided,  many 
eakers    had 
iiost  a  repe- 
les  had  been 
I,  and  show- 
e  benighted 
v's  mite,  the 
of  the  weal- 
isury  of  thb 
3  years,  but 
ly  deficient, 
t  to  its  task, 
as  rccjuired 
ler    hearts, 
ics  of  ora- 
minations — 
eloquence, 
ircd  imagi- 
luidcr-bolta 
arers,  and 
the  great 
"r,  evoked 
H  asscmlily. 
e  help,  was 
gainst  the 
II  been  se- 
>lerance. 
ands,  it  was 
rtledge,  and 
Lord  were 
'lie  mourn- 
im  alar ;  it 
hat  nhould 
iristeniiom. 
r  up  its  ac- 
Innd.     I'jii- 
unite   in   a 
d  they  were 
I'ir  I'rescnt 
iou  in    the 

ons  of  Exe- 
richiy  en- 
eulrrating 
in  foreign 


EXETER    HALL. 


175 


lands  assumed  to  l)o  perishing  for  lack  of 
knowledge,  while  the  increased  ramiber  of 
those  in  their  very  midst,  who  were  known  to 
be  actually  perishing  for  lack  of  food,  claimed 
but  a  secondary  consideration,  and  were  too 
often  left  to  depend  upon  the  humane  impulses 
of  the  "  ungodly,"  or  upon  the  charitable 
efforts  of  unbelievers. 

In  conversati(m  with  his  friends  on  this  suL 
,iect,  Mr.  !Mannors  said  : 

"  It  has  been  the  cause  of  great  surprise  to 
many  why  there  should  be  so  much  poverty 
even  in  the  very  midst  of  abundance,  and 
comparatively  few  liave  ventured  to  ask  why 
there  should  be  any  at  all.  It  is  taken  for 
granted  that  indigence  is  the  necessary  condi- 
tion of  some,  and  divines  have  ever  encour- 
aged the  notion  that  povca-ty  is  often  a  bless- 
ing in  disguise  ;  for  they  assert  that  the  poor 
belong  to  tlie  Lord—'  Hath  not  God  chosen 
the  poor  of  this  world?'  Yet,  Avhile  lauding 
destitution — for  beggary  i'avors  humility  and 
dependence — tl  '• '  hurch,  as  a  gtnieral  rule,  has 
shown  its  worldly  wisdom  l)y  the  most  con- 
temptible pandering  to  wealth  and  power. 

"  The  rapid  increase  of  pauperism  has  as- 
tounded the  benevolent.  Tlie  millions  of  vic- 
tims to  starvation  in  Ireland,  in  India, 
throughout  Europe,  and  almost  in  every  part 
of  the  earth  where  Christianity  and  its  fos- 
tered civilization  have  control,  have  stai'tled 
many  to  serious  thought,  but -have  scarcely 
affected  the  equanimity  of  rulers  or  priests. 
In  times  of  great  privation,  instead  of  imme- 
diate retrenchment,  armies  are  increased  as  if 
to  avert  a  threatent^l  danger,  and  while  fam- 
ine gloats  over  its  thousands,  priests  ply  their 
trade  and  collect  for  missions ;  and  these 
funds,  accumulated  for  the  spread  of  the  (fos- 
pel,  must  not  be  diverted  from  their  legiti- 
mate course,  even  to  allay  the  pestilence  of 
want.  Priestly  policy,  to  be  sure,  assumes  to 
lead  in  elforts  at  benevolence,  and  as  ostenta- 
tious charity  has  subsi'rved  the  interests  of 
religion,  institutions  were  founded  in  which 
the  poor  might  find  temporary  refuge,  but 
Buch  wretched  relief  only  engendered  a  de- 
pendency upon  the  priesthood,  and  gainwl  a 
spurious  reputation  for  a  class  who  gave  back 
but  a  tenth  of  M'luit  they  had  extorted  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord.* 

"  The  great  (piestion  occurs,  Why  does  so 
much  destitution  exist  ?  The  iirominent  cause 
arises  fnmi  the  pau])erizing  tendtiicy  of  re- 
ligion; the  in.satiable  greed  of  ]»rie8ts  has 
been  too  well  established.  A  grciit  portion 
of  the  wealth  of  England  is  absorbed  by  them, 
and  wiuit  do  tlicy  give  in  return?  They  h:iv(! 
impov<'rislu'(l  Irehuul  as  well  as  Italy,  and  the 
pres(>nt  condition  of  Austria,  liussia,  France, 
S|'ain,  and  dtliiu'  countries  of  Europe  fully 
attests  that  where  a  nation  has  to  supjiort 
such  vast  numbers  of  non-jiroducers  called 
ecclesiastics,  priests,  or  ]ire;u'liers, drones  claim- 
ing exemiilion  from  labor,  and  in  most  cases 
from  taxation,  an  additional  Inirden  must  of 
necessity  be  placed  upon  the  shoulders  of  the 
pe()[)le.  it  nuiy  b(^  fairly  asserted  that 
throughout  Europe,  for  evi'ry  priest  you  will 
find  ten  soldiers,  and  for  (svery  soldier  ten  ac- 

•»  SCO  Noto  K. 


tual  paupers.  Religion-  must  h.ive  priests, 
nationality  soldiers,  and  poverty  is  the  com- 
mon otlspring  of  both.  Keligion  and  nati(m- 
ality,  the  theme  of  moralists,  poets,  and  trans- 
cendentalists,  have  been  in  my  opinion  the 
most  fertile  sources  of  misery  to  mankind."'* 

"  Well,  I  rather  guess  they  have,"  said 
Samuel  Styles.  "  I  inaigine  I  know  a  little  of 
what  religion  has  done  to  delay  progress  and 
turn  things  in  general  upside  down.  Nation- 
ality has  parceled  out  the  whole  earth  hiio 
little  garden-patches  like  a  great  field  divided 
and  fenced  oil'  into  acres.  The  man  scjuatted 
in  the  north  corner  lancies  that  the  man  in 
the  south  is  a  kind  of  inferior  crittur ;  and  if 
they  make  out  to  quarrel  about  nothing — 
say 'on  a  point  if  honor — why  then  they  go  at 
it  and  rob  and  plunder  each  other  all  they 
can — and  that's  so  much  to  the  account  of  na- 
tional glory !  If  the  man  in  the  east  boasts 
that  the  sun  rises  for  his  sole  advantage,  the 
man  in  the  Avest  feels  called  ui)on  to  resent 
the  insult  and  cut  a  foreign  thnmt  if  he  can. 
That's  called — patriotism.  That's  just  how 
it  works.  What  bosh  !  A  streak  of  mean  self- 
ishness CT.alted  to  a  virtue.  Yes,  sir,  religion 
and  nationality  have  worked  harmoniously  to- 
gether for  the  benefit  of  kings  and  priests, 
but  have  just  left  the  world  where  it  is." 

"  Those  who  have  thought  most  on  the  sub- 
ject," said  Mr.  Manners,  "  admit  that  subdi- 
visions, nationalities,  and  creeds  are  favorable 
to  despotism — the  world  united  would  bo 
free.  Continue  the  distinction  of  races,  tribes, 
clans,  and  <;aste,  and  you  keep  mankind  forever 
in  bonds,  and  you  as  surely  perpetuate  the  jeal- 
ousy, hatred,  and  strife  which  have  Arisen  from 
such  c(mditions.  Another  evil  is  the  unfair 
listribution  of  land.  If  the  state  claims  to 
own  the  land,  and  apportions  it  only  to  a  fev  , 
those  who  own  no  share  of  the  soil,  and  who 
can  not  therefore  produce  food,  shoidd  not  be 
allowed  to  suffer  in  consequence.  The  un- 
equal distribution  of  land  throughout  Britain 
is  infanu)us.  Every  nuui  who  has  a  desire  to 
cultivate!  a  portion  of  the  soil  should  hav(^  an 
allotment  of  the  same  for  that  purpose.  Talk 
of  vested  rights — rights  secured  to  one  at  the 
expense  of  deprivation  and  destitution  to  hun- 
dnnls!  The  people  should  own  the  soil  in  as 
fair  and  reasonalde  proportions  as  possible. 
But  how  is  it  here'^  A  viliMucjuopoly.  There 
are  in  the  United  Kingdom  seventy-ono  mil- 
lions of  acres,  there  are  al)out  thirty  millions  of 
inhabitants,  and  yet  the  entire  land  is  in  the 
hands  of  less  than  thirty  thousand  landlords, 
a  vast  quantity  of  the  samcs  being  vested  in 
the  State  Church.  One  hundred  and  iit'ty 
nu'U  aetiuiUy  own  the  hall'  of  England,  and 
twelve  men  own  the  half  of  Scotland!  Of 
the  whole  (luantity,  less  than  nineteen  mil- 
lions of  acres  are  under  tillage  and  over 
thirty-live  millions  of  acres  entirely  unculti- 
vated. Were  no  })erson  perniiiti'd  to  own 
say  over  a  thousand  acres — which  would  bo 
(piite  suUicient  for  all  reasou:il)le  jiurposes — 
what  a  vast  improvement  it  would  be  to  the 
nation  as  well  as  to  the  Individ  mil !  But  mark 
the  seltislin(>ss  of  some,  particularly  of  the 
arintocmcy.     The  Duke  of  Cleveland  has  an 

*  Sec  Noto  L. 


iil 


EXETER    HALL. 


state   tweiUn-thrcc  'milm   nloiij?   tlie    jMiblic  \  renu'dy  Avould  bo  [ilaiii  and  simple,    Tlio  first 


t\ 


w 


i***-  'if 


,'1^1, 


lii<rli\viiy  ;  tJic  Duke  of  Devonshire  owns 
niiictynix  t/ioi/xdrid  acres  in  the  county  of 
Derby  alone,  bes-iidiss  other  innneiise  estates 
throupfhout  the  three  kingdoms  ;  the  Duke  of 
Kicluuond  has  tfnrc  liundral  thoimnnd  acres 
at  Gordon  Castle,  and  fovti/  thoiiKiiin/  sxcyvh  at 
Goodwood,  besides  vast  estates  at  other  places 


{freat  move  in  social  r((fonn  should  be  a  re- 
storation of  natural  rights.  Every  brute 
creatui-e  free  from  man's  control  finds  a  boun- 
tiful supply  in  the  lap  of  nature.  Was  less 
provision  made  for  nu\n  V  Every  hunuui  bein^' 
is  entitled  to  li<j;ht,  air,  food,' cloth in<f,  and 
shelter;  these  are  >i(((inril  rir//if»,  of  which  to 


the  Duke  of  Norfolk's  parlc  in  Sussex  is  ff-  \  dei)rive  any  man  is  to  desjioil,  to  rob.  Every 
tfii'ii  vtifes  in  circumferenct! ;  the  Manjuis  of  j  government  shoukl  jruaranteti  those  ri<rhts 
Breadalbane  can  ride  a  lunidred  miks  in  a  I  and  make  them  respecti'd  ;  this  sliould  Ix;  a 
straig'ht  line  on  his  own  ])roperty;  the  Duke  j  first  and  principal  duty.  Our  poor-law  system 
of  Sutherland  oitns  ail  entire  coxrtti/  in  '  is  based  u])(m  the  priiiciph^  that  liumaii  crea- 
Scothuid,  from  sea  to  sea.  Other  instances  of;  tures  must  not  be  allowed  to  starve,  thatthey 
such  ra]iacious  monopoly  could  be  fjiven,  but  I  have  a  i";]:ht  to  food  ;  1  at  instead  of  prop(>rly 
the  list  is  lonjjf  enough.  Two  thirds  of  the  land  recorrnizing  this  beneficent  law,  wt;  delay  in 
ov.'ne..l  by  such  persons  is  totally  unimjiroved,  j  most  cases  until  they  are  reduced  to  the  most 
and  those  already  in  possession  of  immense  abject  want  before  relief  is  ()t!er;'(l;  then 
estates  are  eager  to  acquire  more.  Tiie  late; !  charity  becomes  a  mark  of  degradation.  How 
Marchioness  of  Staft'ord  took  from  her  tenants  !  does  the  state  assent  V  It  seldom  interferes 
over  sccen  hundred  and  idncti/-fonr  thouaand  |  until  famishing  men  are  driven  to  pauperism 
acres,  which  had  been  held  by  them  or  their  i  or  crime,  and  as  soon  as  they  have  become 
fathers  for  centuries!  What  can  be  expected  |  disreputable  or  infamous  they  are  fed  ami 
but  discontent  and  povinty  when  good  land  '<  cared  for.  The  uncom])laining  jjoor  mny  suf- 
Js  thus  monopolized  and  diverted  from  culti-  '  fer  without  relief  until  terribh^  hunger  has 
vaiion  for  the  purpose  of  enlarging  jirivate  !  overcome  their  good  resolves;  but  when  at 
parks,  or  of  being  made  into  forests  or  sheep-  !  last  they  become  debauched  by  poverty,  and 
walks?  Is  not  this  another  fertile  cause  of  i  trained  to  felony  by  want,  then  they  are'quali- 
discontent?  Should  such  exclusive"  jiossession  \  fied  for  tlu^  grateful  sludter  of  a  pristm  and 
be  allowed  to  continue'?  Attempt  to  refortn  ■  entitled  to  tlje  food  and  protection  lor  which 
the  abuse  for  the  benefit  of  the  i)lundered  ■  they  had  perhaps  reluctantly  bartered  their 
masses,  and  religion  will"  side  with  the  rajia-    honor. 

cious,  will  pervert  id"as  of  justice,  and  '-ry  i  "How  d<>plorable  !  To  prevent  this,  all 
out  for  vested  rights;  attempt  a  revolution,  !  should  have  their  natural  rights,  rich  and 
the  church  will  ]m^ach  obedience  to   pr)wer,  ;  poor  alike.     Those  in  need  should  be  abh^  to 


it  will  stand  by  the  opi)ressor,  and' grow  fran- 
tic in  denunciation." 

"  Well,    I   often   heard,"    said   Mr.    Styles, 


avail  themselves  of  tlu^  food,  clothing,  and 
shelter  ready  to  be  dispensed  by  the  state. 
Of  course,  there  should   l)e  a  limitation  until 


"that  they  used  to  hold  pretty  considerable  the  system  became  general;  a  country  or 
estates  down  South  ;  but  for  one  nutn  to  hang  nation  could  only  afl'ord  to  keep  its  own  ])eo- 
(m  to  a  hundred  miles  of  land  right  along  in  ]ile,  just  as  a  ])arish  now  kee]!s  its  own  ])oor. 
a  straight  line,  is  alxiut  the  tallest  kind  of  What  was  given  should  of  necessity  be  i)lain, 
ownership  I  ever  hoiU'd  of.  I  liUi>  your  idea  but  good  and  sutHcient ;  it  should  l-e  furnished 
of  limiting  a  man  to  a  thousand  acres.  Even  '  as  a  right,  not  doled  out  as  a  charily.  'J'liat 
that's  too  much  of  good,  arable  land  ;  yet  'tis  !  which  the  rich  or  ])ros])erous  might  decline 
a  great  improvement,  and  I  hope  to  S(  •  it  car-  ,  to  acce])t  could  beestinuited,  and  an  allowance 


ried  out  yet,  even  were  it  in  Old  Virg     ny." 

"  'Tis  dreadful  to  thiidi  that  such  a  state  of 
things  should  continue  to  exist,"  resumed  Mr. 
Mannors.     "There  should  be  no  such  thing 


made  for  the  same  on  any  claim  held  against 
them  by  the  government.  Those  who  wislicd 
for  better  than  the  state  had  to  furnish  should 
gain  it  by  tlieir  own  industry,     'i'luis,  while 


as  actual  poveity  ;  there  is  enough  for  all  ;  yet  ;  all  wen^  insured  against  ])ositive  want,  there 
what  deplorable  sutti'ring  from  mismanage-  wotdd  y<>t  be  an  incentive  to  hibor  ;  those  who 
ment  and  injustice  !  Many  schemes  have  beeti  j  wislied  to  advanci'  in  sncial  pesirion  woidd 
advanced  to  riil  the  world  of  pau]>ers.  Civili-  have  to  be  diligent  in  order  to  imp'  ve  their 
zation  often  lets  them  perish.  ("omniunisiS,  •  own  condition.  In  connection  ••  .  this,  a 
socialists,  and  moral  and  political  n'formers  '  liberal  education  perfecitly  free  fr<  n  sectarian 
of  every  degree  hav(^  been  ]ier])lexed  with  the  '  bias  should  be  placed  within  the  reach  of 
problem    of  poverty — but   to    what   efVectual    all. 

pnr])ose'.'  Unfortunately  it  has  been  too  fre- i  "In  such  a  i)lan  of  benevolence  fairly  in 
(|Uently  assumed  that  privation  is  normal,  i  practice theiu;  need  b(>  no  obtrusive  socialism  ; 
Whence  is  ghastly  pauperism  that  prolific  ;  (^vf.'ry  one,  as  circumstances  jx'nu'tted,  would 
parciut  of  crime'/  It  stalks  through  the  land  ;  bn  at  full  liberty  to  accei)t  or  refust!  that 
with  blanched  face  and  hollow  cheek,  sifting  I  which  \\w  government  had  for  distrilmtion. 
th(^  garbages  of  cess-])ools,  and  living— yes,  ,  I'A'tU'y  industrious  person  cnuld  iic(|uire  i>ro 
liriiif/ — <ii  refuse  and  rottenness,  and  watching  perty,  livt;  in  his  own  lanise,  and  improve  his 
with  wolfish  scowl  for  plunder,  or,  it>  nniy  be,  !  own  couditi(.n,  just  as  at  ]>reseiit.  independent 
for  blood  !  Whence  this  phantom  of  moral  and  '  of  all  others;  but  the  state  should  nuike  no 
physical  diseaseV  It  is  the  otl'spriug  ol'  fraud  class  distinction  in  the  aiipro)>riaMHn  of  simple 
and  oppression,  the  certain  ri'sult  of  a  ilepriva-  necessaries,  just  as  no  distincii'in  or  exemp- 
tion of  hunuin  rights.  Poverty  is  simjily  the  tion  would  be  maile  among  those  liable  to 
ctVect  of  a  contiuued  wron;' ;  yet,  if  govern  jiiiy  a  rated  ]troporlion  of  taxes.  'I'heve  is 
uients   were    based    on   just    principles,  the    generally  an  abundance  of  food  to  l)e.  had,  if 


exp:ter  hall. 


17' 


Tlio  first 
.1(1  1)0  a  rc- 
,'cry   brutu 
ds  a  boun- 
Was  less 
inanbciniT     ^ 
(liin<r,  ami 
t'  which  to 
)b.     Every 
osi!   riiifhts 
hould  b(!  a 
law  system 
iiinan  croa- 
',  thatthoy 
>f  \)r(>p('rly 
\-{',  delay  in 
<>  the  most 
■r^'il ;    then 
.tion.    How 
1  interferes 

pauperism 
ive  become 
•o  fed  ami 
or  mny  suf- 
luinfrer  has 
lit  when  at 
overly,  and 
■y  are  quali- 

priscm  and 
n  for  which 
iterod  their 

nt   this,   all 
s,  rich  and 
d  bo  able  to 
ilhinpr,  and 
y  Ihe  state, 
tut  ion  imtil 
country    or 
IS  own  peo- 
s  <iwn  i)oor. 
ty  bo  ))lain, 
■<■  furnished 
rity.     That 
ubt  decline 
|n  allowimce 
1(1  ajjalnst 
l\\  ill)  wislied 
nisli  should 
Thus,  while 
want,  then; 
;  those  who 
lion  would 
p'    ve  their 
.   this,  a 
a  sectarian 
(>  reach  of 

!•    fairly  in 
socialism  ; 
Itted,  would 
refuse^  tliat 
listriluition. 
|c(iuire  pro 
Improve  his 
Hieiiendent 
d  make  no 
|in  of  siiupie 
or  exemp- 
K'  liable  to 
'riiere   is 
|)  iK'.  hud,  if 


not  in  one  country,  in  anotluT,  and  the '  it  up;  for  ev(m  in  Yankee  land,  thouo-h  wo 
provernment  storehouses  should  always  be  may  be  a  leetle  ahead  of  all  creation  in  some 
amply  provided.     It  is  not  probable,  however, '  matters,  we  an't  yet  quit(!  perfect.     Our  jrov- 

ernmeut  is  yet  bat  an  elective  monai'chy  ;  we 


that  oven  a  third  of  tin?  i)Opulatiou  of  any  i 
country  would  ever  avail  themselves  of  such 
assistance. 

"  The  establishment  of  any  such  systcnn 
would,  in  my  opinion,  be  a  remedy  for  the 
evil  of  pau])erism,  and  the  only  (.-ertain  on(.' 
of  which  I  can  conceive.  It  miirhtb'.  ...  iev  ry  j 
simple,  and,  in  the  lonjjf  run.  less  o.  no  mon; ! 
costly  than  ev(;n  the  heavy  penalty  result) n<f 
from  the  wretched  and  unjust  frovernmental 
policy,  and  tin?  disr(5putal)le  di])loinatic  shifts 
and  stratajrems  which  have  obtained  for  cen- 
turies, and  which,  besides  ciratiiiH'  innumerii- 
blo  woes,  hav(!  vastly  increased  national  ob- 
lifjations.  The  rich  could  not  reasonably 
complain,  for  all  would  bo  privilejied  to  par- 
take alike,  and  heavy  imjiosts,  i'ov  which  the 
wealthy  are  now  mainly  liable,  would  be,  no 
doubt,  o-reatly  reduc(^'d,  and  mnny  others  en- 
tirely abolished.  The  ])()or  would  be  nuide 
more!  virtuous,  and  would  not  bo  the  humili- 
ated recii)ionts  of  a  stinted,  morosi!  charity. 
IIun.fy(>r,  that  (jfreat  incentive  to  (;rimo,  would 
be  appeasiid.  Even  if  actuated  by  no  hiorher 
motive,  prevention  would  bo  better  than  cure, 
and  man  would  feel  more  difjnitied,  more 
jrrateful,  ami  mor(i  inclined  to  do  what 
was  corr(!ct  when  ho  learned  to  know  his 
ritrhts,  and  found  them  respected ;  whtsn 
he  was  cared  for  by  his  i)arent  state,  instead 
of  bein<4"  sliunned  as  an  (uitcast,  ])rostrate(l  by 
])oV''rty,  and  treated  in  many  res])ects  wi)rs(i 
'than  a  l)east.     And  then  what  a  hai)i)y  result 


must  ji^et  rid  of  the  '  oiavman  ])ower  ;'  wo 
want  no  uncrowned  kin^^s — our  ])r(>iden- 
tial  elections  are  sinks  of  political  corruittion, 
into  which  all  parties  iiluiifrc.  W<'  need  no 
costly  prc'sidents  to  {juide  our  shi])  of 
state — they  mostly  rule  for  a  ])arty  ;  and  be- 
fore we  are  entitled  to  be  called  the  '(Jreat 
Republic,'  we  must  finst  be  a  true  re])ublic; 
wo  must  hav(!  an  economical  jyovernnuint, 
more  sinii)](! — like  that  of  the  Swiss,  than  that 
of  llashy,  imperial  France.  'T would  do  our 
senators  and  conirressmeu  no  harm  to  take  a 
friendly  hint  on;'e  in  a  while  from  sudi  a  tibi^ral 
British  cousin  ;  i".  might  pjive  us  a  fresh  start 
in  advan(;o  and  lo  many  a  world  (.f  g-ood ; 
and,  actinj,^  at  once  m\  your  ide:i,  wi?  mijjfht  still 
lead  on  in  the  cause  f)f  human  ])ro(^ress." 

Father  Tom,  who  .lad  been  listenin<>-  atten- 
tively to  all  that  had  been  said  on  tluj  sub- 
ject, seenHMl  to  have  b^en  much  struck  with 
the  benevolence  of  the  plan.  lb;  remained 
silent  and  reflective  for  ^omo  moments,  and 
then,  lookino-  up  at  Mr.  X^annors,  exclaimed, 
"  Wore  Britain  to  lead  in  tuis  matter,  wliat  a 
post  of  honor  it  would  occup\  in  the  world!" 

"  It  would,  no  doubt,"  continued  Mr.  Man- 
nors  ;  "  bui.  some  of  our  so-called  o-r(>ut  states- 
men are  so  \.'odde(l  to  their  prejudices  that  it 
will  be  dilficult  to  move  thwn  in  a  new  direc- 
tion. I  am  aware  that  diiliculti(;s  exist  which 
may  bo  urovd  ao^ainst  brinjjfinrj  such  a  systtim 
to  a  i)rac'ical  issue  ;  but  those  dillicubics  nro 
nmro  ima^nnary  than  real.     Timid  i)olitician» 


to.  the  state  itself — less  misery, less  discontenf, 

less  de<j;ra(latiou,  less  crime,  and  perliaps,  j  may  i)r()bal)ly  elaborate  as  to  the  exjx-nse-,. 
eventually,  far  less  expensi;!  Indeed,  what  it  without  makinpf  a  just  estinuvte  of  the  (>'iY'at 
now  costs  to  keep  u))  additional  ariuameuts,  advantaires  (o  Ix;  (jraimMl  ;  they  nniy  draw  a 
armies,  pnlic(>,  and  numerous  aids  to  su])i)ress  line  of  distinction  between  the  country  and 
the  turbul(Mice  created  by  wronjjf  lejfislation,  |  thepeo  ile,  and  whih;  heedless  and  oxtravajjant 
besides  that  which  is  r(.'(iuired  to  put  numo-  i  in  upholding!:  the  honor  of  the  one,  may  bo 
rous  i)ains  and  penalties  in  force,  and  tlie  im- '  still  almost  indifferent  as  to  the  poverty  and 
mens(!  sums  wasted  for  many  unworthy  i)ur-  degradation  of  the  other.  They  may  con- 
poses,  would  do  miii'h  to  meet  this  new  and  just  tiniie  to  take  a  wrono'  idea  of  whut  is  riti'ht — 
demand  fir  national  benevolence;  aiulastliei*  i  just  as  fals(f  notions  are  still  entertaiu'd  as  to 
is  tjenerally  an  excess  of  ollicials  in  jrovern- 1  what  is  virtue  or  what  is  crime.  However, 
meut  employ,  none  in  addition  wouhl  be  re-  j  until  a  full  imutsure  of  jnsaco  is  meted  out  to 
(jnired.         '  all,  until  there  is  a  full  riistoration  of  human 

"  I  can  not  ejo  into  details  more  fully  at  ]>re- 1  rijxhts,  it  .should  bo  tlu;  f>T(-at  duty  of  tho 
sent;  but  the  mamuxemeiit  reejarding  plain  j  nation  to  make  suitabh;  provision  for  all  of  its 
buil(lin<rs,  with  ijardens  or  e:roiinds  to  cuUi-  peijple  in  actual  need,  siekiK^ss,  or  di.-^tresB, 
vate  if  possilile,  to  be  called,  say,  ])ublic  and  f)r  the  children  of  such,  until  they  are 
homes,  not  'poor-houses'  or  'houses  of  educated  and  able  to  do  for  themselves,  'i'hose 
refu<r(>.'  and  tleit  concernin;x  f'^''  distribution  :  who  an;  willin;r  to  labor,  but  who  can  find  no 
of  fuid  and  cl"tiiiny',  could  be  made  very  sim- .  employment,  should  not  be  left  a  jjnwtohun- 
\)\c;  honest  and  careful  leijrislatioii  is  only  re- 
(piired  lo  start  tin;  ;i-reat  experiment.  And 
satislied  am  1  that  the  names  of  thos.i  wlio 
sui)ported  such  a  nu-asuni  of  justic(!  and  hu 


O'er.  If  the  state  continues  to  sanciion  and 
uphold  an  uni'air  distribution  of  land,  it  should 
eitiu-r  provide  work  or  food  for  thos(!  who 
have  no  land  to  cultivate.  And  next  to  a 
niiiuity  W(mld  be  reconh-d  on  millions  of  liv-  i  air.urity  from  deefradiniv  i)overty,  there  should 
ine-  lu'arts  and  reii-isler(>(l  for  the  e-ratittide  of    be  a  fr(>e  education  for  all. 


i 111  lire  ae^e.-*. 

"  1  fancy  I  S(h>  whatyou'n;  at,"  said  Samuel 
Styles.  ""  lOvery  man  iielone-lujr  to  a  national 
ship  fools  that  when  he  turns  in  at  night  ho 
is  sure  of  his  grub  next  day — no  need  of  pil- 
fering to  get  it.  And  you  W(uild  liken  the 
state  to  a  greal  ship,  and  feed  and  (dothe  every 
man  on  hoard.     Somehow  Mike  llie  notion — 


rau|ierisin  is  a  disgrace,  a  ])esti1ence  which 
should  be  stamped  out  were  it  to  take  the 
crown  jew(ds  or  national  treasures  to  find 
food,  or  had  every  church  in  the  kingd(/mto 
be  opened  and  used  as  a  shelter  for  the  homo- 
less.  No  nation  can  claim  to  be  truly  great 
wliile  thousands  of  its  ])eoj)le  are  obliged  to 
go  sii])peiiess  to  bed.     (fovernmeiits  must  bo- 


gii(;s8  'twill  bear  some  calculation,     I'll  liguro,  conu;  more  paternal,  and  not  remain  as  some, 


178 


EXETER    IIALL. 


If . 


01:,.  J 


like  the  sliadow  of  despotism  upon  the  land.  , 
Advanced  ideas  have   had  their  eft'ect   upon  ' 
legislation,  and  the  conservatism  and  exclusive-  , 
ness  of  the  past  will  no  longer  be  tolerated.  ] 
And,  kind  friends,  hoping  on,  may  we  live  to 
witness  the  fraternity  of  nations,  and  may  wo 
see  the  priest  and  the  soldier,  who  have  kept 
them  so  long  divided,  obliged  to  turn  to  occu- 
pations more  in  the  interest  of  humanity." 

This  was  Martin  Mannors's  prayer  ;  he  held 
out  his  hand  and  looked  upward  as  he  spoke, 
there  was  a  short  pause,  and  then,  as  if  with 
one  voice,  they  all  exclaimed,  A7nen. 

In  due  tfme,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cujiel  returned, 
to  the  great  joy  of  Mrs.  Manners,  and  to 
the  thorough  (lisgust  of  the  aspiring  Mr. 
13ross,  who,  regretting  having  ever  entertained 
a  favorable  opinion  of  any  person  known  to  bo 
skeptical,  had  rejoined  the  church  and  Sunday- 
school  and  conmienced  a  redistribution  of 
tracts.  The  industrious  Hannah,  in  the  fullness 
of  a  ha])py  sj)irit,  grew  more  fascinated  with 
John  Bunyan  ;  but  Robert  hopes  to  be  able  to 
alienate  her  affections  to  some  extent  from 
that  dreaming  pillar  of  orthodoxy  and  per- 
luips  to  legally  monopolize  the  greater  share 
of  them  himself.  Father  Tom  liad  to  leave 
for  Ireland,  but  engaged  to  return  in  a  short 
time  and  fmbaik  with  his  friend  Capel — who 
with  his  wife  had  al  ready  become  active  Spiritu- 
alists— in  the  publication  of  a  paper  intended 
to  advocate  human  rights  and  to  expose  popu- 
lar superstition  and  priestly  fraud.      Samuel 


Styles,  who  was  a  great  favorite  among  tlie  Sec- 
ularists and  Spiritiudista  of  London,  was  honor- 
ed by  them  with  a  imblic  dinner  at  the  K(id 
Lion,  and  soon  afterward  took  passage  for  New- 
York,  bearing  to  the  liberal  bodies  of  that  city 
the  fraternal  greeting  of  their  brethren  in  Eng- 
land. Ho  promised,  liow(!ver,  to  pay  Hamjv 
siead  another  visit  within  a  year,  provided 
Mr.  Mannors  would,  in  the  mean  time,  cross 
the  Atlantic  and  hail  tlit^  fi lends  of  fivp 
thouj{ht  in  America.  This  proposal  is  likely 
to  be  favorably  entertained,  and  Martin  Man- 
ners may  expect  an  enthusiastic  reception. 

How  long  still  is  the  liunuin  mind  to  re- 
main hi  the  bonds  of  superstition  ?  How  long 
is  the  great  delusion  to  continue; '?  Shall  m^n 
learn  hatred  through  nationality  and  religion, 
and  shall  Christian  priests  pursue  their  syste- 
matic extortion  and  maintain  their  mischiev- 
ous rule  for  yet  another  century '!  Shall  annual 
meetings  continue  to  be  sustained  in  order  to 
I)romote  the  circulation  f)f  that  dreary  volume 
of  "  inspiration,"  and  shall  cunning  words  and 
mystic  threats  drain  further  millions  from  the 
credulous?  It  may  be  so  for  a  time  ;  but  there 
are  even  now  hopeful  signs  of  a  rescue.  After 
a  trial  of  over  eighteen  hundred  years,  Chris- 
tianity has  so  far  failed  in  its  mission.  The 
triumph  of  reason  and  humanity  must  be  ac- 
c(miplished,  and  there  are  those  now  living 
who  may  witmsss  their  ascendency  and  cele- 
brate their  union  and  installation  as  the  great 
ruling  guide  and  power  of  Exeter  Hall. 


■5 


[or  tl;e  Sec- 
vas  lionor- 
,  the  Hod 
e  for  Now- 
f  that  city 
;;n  in  Eng- 
ay  llamj)- 
,  provided 
iii.'c,  cross 
8   of    frt*e 
il  is  likely 
irtin  Man- 
(■l)tion. 
ind  to  re- 
How  long 
Shall  iii-n 
d  rclijifion, 
heir  svste- 
•  niiwchiev- 
lall  annual 
n  order  to 
try  volume 
words  and 
IS  from  the 
;  but  tlu>r() 
LMie.    After 
•ars,  Chris- 
sion.     The 
nuBt  be  ac- 
uovv  living 
y  and  cele- 
8  the  great 
K  Hall. 


APPENDIX. 


NOTE  A. 

In  Pnrltan  Massacluisotts,  durina  the  pcriotl  wliirh 
Cotton  Miitlier  called  the  •'Koldeii  a:,'c  "  of  tho  Pil- 
grims, it  was  fiiacti'd  with  re;!;ard  to  lierctical  books  : 

"  It  is  ordLTod  tliat  all  and  fvery  onn  of  tlio  inhabi- 
tants of  thisjurisdii^tion  tliat  have  any  books  in  tlieir 
custody  that  ro  under  the  names  of  John  Rctevcs  and 
Lodowick  Mufji^leton,  (who  pretend  themselves  to  be 
the  last  two  witnesses,)  and  shall  not  brint;  or  send  in 
all  such  books  to  the  next  magistrate,  shairtbrfeit  £10, 
and  the  books  shall  be  burnt  in  the  market-place  at 
Boston,  on  next  lecture  day,  by  the  common  execu- 
tioner." 

And  respecting  infidels  and  skeptics  : 

"  Any  one  denyins;  the  Scripture  to  be  the  word  of 
God  shall  pay  not  oxceodins  ^jO,  and  be  severely 
whipped  not  e.^ceeding  tO  strokes,  unless  he  publicly 
recant,  In  which  case  he  shall  not  pay  al)Ove  £10,  or  be 
whipped  in  case  he  pay  not  the  line.  And  if  the  said 
oflender  after  his  recantation,  sentence,  or  execution, 
shall  the  second  time  publisli,  and  obstinately  and  per- 
tinaciously  maintain,  the  said  wicked  opinion,  he  shall 
be  bauislicd  or  put  to  deatu,  as  the  court  shall  judge.'' 

rUPTTANISM. 

It  is  recorded  in  the  early  history  of  the  Puritans  of 
Ncw-Enjiland  that— 

•'The  Quakers  were  whipped,  branded,  had  their 
ears  cut  olF,  their  tongues  bored  with  hot  irons,  and 
were  banished  upon  tlie  pain  of  death  in  case  of  their 
return,  and  actually  e.vecuted  on  the  gallows." 

It  is  also  recorded  In  the  same  history: 

"  The  practice  of  selling  the  natives  of  Nortli-Ameri- 
ca  into  foreign  !)ondage  continued  for  two  centuries. 
The  articles  of  the  early  Ncw-Kngland  Confederacy 
class  persons  among  the  spoils  of  war.  A  scanty  rem- 
nant of  the  I'equod  tribe  in  Connecticut,  tlie  captives 
treacherously  made  by  Waldron  in  Ne\tf-Hampshire, 
the  harmless  fragments  of  the  trilie  of  Annamon'  the 
orplian  oll'spriiig  of  King  Pliilip  himself,  were  all 
doomed  to  the  same  hard  destiny  of  perpetual  bou- 
daire." 

The  same  history  also  aays  : 

"  Where  are  now  the  i.urocrous  and  flourishing 
tril)es  of  Indians  whicli  on''o  peopled  Ncw-Kngland  V 
Where  ar(^  the  N'arras.  nsi  its,  the  Peijuods,  the  Pokano- 
kets,  the  Mohegans,  .ira  the  Mohawks,  to  say  notliiiig 
of  other  tribes  t  All  have  disappeared  from  the  face 
of  the  earth,  thanks  to  the  cold-blooded  policy  and 
heartless  cruelty  r,(  the  Puritans  !  Tliey  all  vanished 
at  the  llrst  dawn  of  Puritan  civilization  1  First  over- 
reached in  trad'  by  the  cunning  Yankees,  then  liem- 
med  up  within  u'strieted  territories,  then  goaded  into 
war.  and  then  i:.\terminated  with  li:;c  and  sword.    .    . 

"  The  Pokanokets  were  (fce  first  tribe  to  slielter  the 
Pilgrims  after  their  landing  on  Plymouth  Kock,  and 
tliey  were  tlie  lirsl  to  fall  victhus  to  their  insidious  and 
ungritel'ul  policy." 

It  is  further  rcn-ordcil  in  the  same  history: 

"■  \t  tlie  two  sessio  is  of  the  court  in  Sep'ombcr, 
100:i,  fourteen  women  and  one  man  were  sentenc(^(l  to 
deatii  on  charge  of  witchcr.att  One  old  man  of  eighty 
refused  to  plead,  and  by  tl'at  horrilile  decree  of  thy 
common  law  was  pressed  'm  dcitli. 

'•  Altliongh  it  was  evident  tli.it  confession  was  the 
only  sat'i  ty  in  most  cases,  some  f(  w  liad  co\irage  to  re- 
tract their  confessions;  some  eight  of  them  were  sent 
to  execution,  '.''wenty  persons  had  already  b('en  put 
to  deatli.  eiglit  more  'vcre  under  sentence,  the  jails 
were  full  of  prisoners,  iviul  new  accusations  were  made 
cvi'ry  day." 


Among  the  law.4  lecorded  in  the  early  history  of 
New-England,  were  the  following  provisions  : 

"  No  one  shall  travel,  cook  victuals,  make  beds, 
sweep  house,  cut  liair,  or  shave  on  the  Sabbath-day." 

"If  any  man  siiall  kiss  his  wife,  or  wife  her  hus- 
band, on  the  Lord's  day,  the  party  in  fault  shall  be 
punished  at  the  discretion  of  the  court  of  magistrates." 

"  No  wi)nian  shall  kiss  her  child  on  the  Sabbath  or 
fasting-day." 

To  tlieso  provisions  of  the  law  the  historian  appends 
the  following  note :  » 

"  A  gentleman,  after  an  absence  of  some  months, 
reached  home  on  the  Sabbath,  and,  meeting  his  wife  at 
the  door,  kissed  her  with  an  appetite,  and,  for  his  te- 
merity in  violating  the  law,  the  next  day  was  arraigned 
before  the  court  and  fined  for  so  palpable  a  breach  of 
the  law  on  the  Lord's  day." 


NOTE  B. 

The  following  report  of  the  proceedings  of  a  Bible 
Society  meeting,  held  in  December,  lSi!;3,  at  tlie  city  of 
Hamilton,  in  tlie  Province  of  Upper  Canada,  speaks  for 
itself,  and  shows  tliat  Uitle,  if  indeed  any,  exasigera- 
tion  lias  been  used  in  the  narrative  of  the  'Bible-meet- 
ing at  Hampstead.  Were  it  not  for  the  reliable  ac- 
count of  the  one,  the  other  would  be  asserted  a  libel 
against  Christian  unity,  and  what  strong  language 
might  be  used  by  '•  reverend  gentlemen"  and  pious 
hearers  against  its  reckless  author. 

HAMILTON  BIBLE  SOCIETY  MEETING. 

IT  ENDS  I.\  A  TREE  FIGUT. 

(From  the  Hamilton  Spectator.) 

In  accordance  with  the  circular  issued  by  Edward 
Jackson,  Esij.,  one  of  the  Vice-Presidents  of  the  Ham- 
ilton Branch  Bible  Society,  a  meeting  of  the  membera 
was  lielil  iu  the  Mechanics'  Hall  yesterday  evening. 
The  public  were  a'so  admitted,  but  u.e  front  seata 
were  reserved  for  the  members,  so  as  to  distinguish 
theni  from  the  rest  of  the  audience.  There  were'from 
a  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  members  present, 
and  about  lour  hundred  of  the  general  public. 

Un  the  platform,  to  the  right  of  the  chair,  were  tlio 
Pev.  Messrs.  Burnet,  Pullar,  Cheelham,  and  Irvin'-; 
and  Messrs.  (".  D.  Kei<l,  Wilson  ifennedy,  and  A.  Jlil- 
roy  ;  on  the  left  were  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Ormislon,  Rice, 
and  Ingiis,  Mr.  Sherili'  Thomas,  and  Messrs.  E.  .Jack- 
son and  .lames  Watson. 

Shortly  alter  seven  o'clock,  the  Rev,  Mr.  Burnet 
rose  and  said  that,  as  it  was  now  past  the  time  at 
which  th(!  mei!tirig  was  called,  lie  would  move  that  Mr. 
A.  Milroy  take  tlie  chair. 

Mr.  KeniUMly  seconded  the  motion. 

Mr.  Slierilf  Thomas  said  lu;  supposed  the  object  of 
the  motion  was  to  test  the  feeling  of  the  nieeliiiL',  but 
decorum  dictated  that,  in  the  absence  of  the  President, 
the  vice-president  should  take  the  chaii'.  He  would 
therefore  move,  in  umendment,  tliat  Edward  JacHson, 
Es(|.,  lie  chairman. 

I'ev,  Dr.  Ormistimsaid  it  wi-s  unnecessary  tosay  ono 
word  in  favor  of  'lie  propriety  of  tlie  course  proposed 
by  the  slieriir.     He  seconded  the  amendment. 

The  sheriif  then  put  tlie  aniendnieiil  to  llie  meet- 
ing', and  declared  it  carried  aniidsl  cheers  anil  hisses. 

Mr.  .lacUson  came  fiu'ward  iind  took  the  chair. 

Mr.  ('.  I).  Iteid  I'lise,  and  was  received  with  h)ud  criert 
of'Cliairl    chair  1"    He  attempted  t)  speak,  but  so 


180 


APPENDIX. 


k: 


.*««,.] 


^^< 


■VJ 


< 


Ri-cnt  was  the  upronr  that  it  was  impossiblo  to  licar 
liiiii.  All  that  ri'aclicd  us  was,  '•  I  protest  ajjaiiist  Mr. 
Jacki^oii  taking;  the  chair." 

Ifov.    Mr.    Biiniot  next  took  tlio  Ptaiul,  and  was 
greeted  in  a  similar  manner,    lie  said.  "  I  have  just  I 
one  word  of  explanation."    (Ujiroar,  which  continued 
for  siJMie  time, ) 

Hcv.  Dr.  Ormiston  tried  to  say  Something,  but  was 
not  permitted  to  be  heard,  ' 

Hcv,  Mr,  liiiriiet  continued,  amidst  interruptions, 
■'  As  mover  of  the  motion.  1  am  entitled  to  one  word 
of  e\])lanation.  'J'his  meelinu;  has  been  called  by  Mr. 
JftcUson,  and  it  did  seem  to  liim  proper  that  the  one 
callin.i;  it.  should  take  the  chair. 

Tlu^  chairnian  said  he  had  been  placed  In  not  a  very 
pleasant  position,  and  he  would  need  all  their  sy^ipa- 
tliy  and  i\  rbearaiice.  They  had  assembled  to  hold  a 
ine(;tiii:,'  of  t lit!  ]?iblc  Society,  and  theyouirht  to  re- 
spect the  princijiles  of  the  Uible.  lUliire  proceeding 
to  ll'.e  business  of  lh(!  evening,  he  would  retpiest  Kev, 
])r.  Orniiston  to  implore  tlic  divine  blessing, 
lt<'v,  J)r.  t)rmiston  ottered  up  i)rayer, 
'I'he  chairman  said  he  would  say  a  few  words  on  the 
oc(-as!on  of  their  being  called  together.  It  had  been 
the  custom  for  the  last  twenty-live  years  to  arrange 
the  liusiness  of  the  annual  meeting  in  committee. 
This  year  tln'y  had  failed  to  do  so,  iii  consctpienee  of 
a  (liU'ereiice  regarding  the  ajipointuK  lit  of  certain  olll- 
ecj's.  Tlie  minority  of  the  committee  determined  on 
can yiiiL;'  tlu;  mattrr  to  the  annual  nieetiiig,  and  to 
that  course  he  attributed  all  tlu;  subsequent  inharmo- 
liWius  |)ioceediiigs.  Ho  was  [lersiiaded  that  Exeter 
Hall  would  not  tiilerate  an  amendment  at  an  annual 
nK^etiiiu',  for  there  all  the  business  was  arranged  in 
<;ominitiee.  However,  at  their  annual  meeting,  after 
the  list  of  oflicers  had  been  ])roposed  and  an  aineiid- 
jnent  otVered.  it  was  thought  by  soiiu!  that  they  ciuikl 
not  arrive  at  a  .just  conclusion,"it  being  a  mixed  meet- 
ing, and  a  resolution  was  therefori'  jiassed  avi.journing 
the.  election  of  (itticers  to  a  meeting  of  the  meiiibers  of 
the  society,  to  be  calli'd  by  circular  a  forluiglit  after- 
ward. The  circular  was  issued,  but  on  ai'count  of  ap- 
pearances, lo  which  he  would  not  i.;>w  alliule,  it  was 
thoxglit  iiiopcr  to  postpone  it  indefinitely.  The  pre- 
sint  iiieetiiig  was  basi'd  on  that  |)o-itponeinent.  and 
had  all  the  powers  of  the  aiiiiuat  meeting.  They 
could  j)ro]ios(;  amendments  to  thecoiistiiutioii,  (and  he 
hrlirvrd  some  gentlemen  inteii'led  doing  so.)  elect  of- 
llcer^,  or  dissolve  the  society  if  they  pleased.  He 
would  now  call  on  the  Kev.  Mr.  Inglis  to  address  the 
ineeiin  ' 

I{e\ ,  R[r.  Cheetham  started  to  his  feet,  holding  a  pa- 
per in  his  hand,  and  Uev,  Mr.  Inglis  also  rose. 

'I'heii  cdiinneiieed  a  fiii'ious  uproar,  wliicli  contiiuied 
wiilimit  cessation  tintil  the  bi'eaking  up  of  tlu;  mert- 
illg.     l'''ios  of  '■  Clieelham,  Clieelliam  I'  •'Inglis,  In- 
is  !"  alternated,  and  neither  sj)eaker  was  allowed  a 
iaring. 

Mr.  t  lieethaiu  was  (he  tirst  to  make  the  attempt, 
bill  was  met  by  so  great  u  noise  ti;at  it  was  useless  to 
p.r.-^ist. 

Mr.  Inglis— Mr.  Chairman  and  fri(Mids— (cheers  and 
liisses.) 

Mr,  Cheetham— I  move  that,  as  this  meeting— (uj)- 
roar.) 

The  chairman  rose  and  said  that  he  decided  Mr, 
<'hi'efliinn  to  be  <uit  of  order. 

Mr,  (lieeiham  ML'ain  trie(l  to  speak,  but  with  a  simi- 
lar r.'siilt  as  jjrcvlous  attempts. 

Mr.  Inglis— Will  this  meeliiig  allow  iiie  just  one 
momi-nl  y    (••  Xo,  no,"  and  continued  ujiroar.) 

Mr.  Cheetham— Just  one  moment,  ^l,aughte^  and 
hisses.) 

Till!  cliairnian,  having  obtained  a  hearing,  ri'ad  a 
letter  frtdii  .John  Vouiig,  Esi|..  rei|uestiijg  that  his 
llrtiiK!  be  withdrawn  from  tin'  list  of  vie  (■-pre>i(lenls, 
as  lie  was  disinclined  to  couliiiue  associated,  even  in 
name,  with  a  sodety.  the  iummlttee  of  which  acted 
in  Hiuli  a  disgraceful  manner, 

Mr,  Inglis  and  Mr,  Cheetham  again  attempted  to 
addi'ess  the  meeting,  but  all  attempts  were  in  vain, 
lot  the  hooting  and  yelling  was  at  once  commeiiced 
when  eitlii'r  ofthem  oji:  ned  his  mouth. 

Ml .  .lame-  Meliilyre  rose  In  the  body  of  the  hall,  and 
Inquired  of  the  chairniaii  who  had  the  riuht  to  the 
floor. 
TIfe  Chairman    Mr.  Tngli.'J. 

IMr.  (  heetliam  I  liu've  the  riL'lit;  and  I  intend  to 
have  iliat  right.    (Cheers  and  hisses.) 

Mr,  Cooiiihs  said  he  had  come  to  the  iiieeiinir,  as  he 
had  no  doiiM  many  oljiers  had,  to  see  fair  |ilay.  The 
nrst  one  (Ml  llie  (lour  luid  ilie  right  lo  speak!  and  as 
Mr,  f 'heel ha II I  u as  the  ilrst,  if  (lie  other  luiil  any  -eiise 
01  (.Kipriely.  lie  would  sit  down,     (Cheers.) 


I 


Mr,  Cheetham— Allow  me  just  one  moment.  (Cries 
of  ••  Shut  up  1"  ••  (;o  on  !"  etc.) 

At  this  s'aLce  of  the  iiroceediiigs,  Mr.  Hugh  IMcMa- 
hoii,  amidst  loud  cheering,  went   upon  the  platform, 

'id  took  a  si'at  behind  the  chairman,  but  higher  u]), 

Mr,  Sergeant-Major  Hrown,  seconded  by  W,  I'owis, 

-q..  niovt'd  that  the  meeting  adjourn  nine  die 
I'lie  cliairnian  said  it  was  of  no  use  for  any  one  to 
oeenjiy  ilii"  chair  when  no  respect,  was  paid  to  it.     As 
he  despaired  of  restoring  order,  he  would  declare  the 
meeting  dissolved,     ^Loiid  cheers,) 

We  may  state  that  the  motion  Mr,  Cheetham  was 
desirous  of  moving  read  as  follows :  "  That,  as  tlii.J 
nieeting  is  wliolly  illegal,  we  adjourn." 

Notwithstanding  the  declaration  of  the  dissolution 
of  the  meeting,  tlie  crowd  still  lingererl  in  the  hall,  as 
if  expecting  something  else  to  occur,  and  their  exi)ec- 
tations  were  not  long  luigratitied,  A  swaying  to  and 
fro  of  a  knot  of  persons  in  the  centre  of  "the  jiall  at- 
tracted our  attention,  and  on  proceeding  thither,  we 
found  Hugh  McMahon  and  a  Mr.  King  struggling  for 
the  possession  of  a  walking-stick.  The  ui  'gin  of  the 
disturbance,  as  near  as  we  could  ascertain,  was  as 
follows:  Mc>!ah(ni  wtiit  up  to  Mr,  .lames  Walker, 
who  had  the  books  of  the  society  under  his  arm.  and 
took  hold  ofthem,  Mr,  King  went  in  between  them, 
and  pushed  away  Mc.Malion,  Mr,  Walker  making  his 
escape  in  the  mean  time.  AIc.Mahon  seized  hold  of 
King's  stick,  one  or  two  others  joined  in,  and  soon 
there  was  (iiiite  a  disturbance,  but  it  would  doubtles.s 
soon  hare  been  quelled  had  it  not  been  for  the  intro- 
duction of  another  element.  Some  live  or  six  Irish- 
men (and  Hoinaii  Catholics,  we  believe)  armed  with 
shillelahs,  dashed  into  the  crowd  with  wild  wlioops 
and  yells,  anil  laid  about  with  their  slicks  in  the  most 
promiscuous  manner,  the  leader  crying  out,  "(Jlear 
the  way  lu'fore  you,  boys  I"  The  seats  were  scat- 
tered in  all  directions,  and  a  scene  of  the  wildest  con- 
fusion ensued.  After  a  time  the  gang  of  rowdies 
went  out  of  the  hall,  smashing  at  tiie  si'ats  with  their 
bludgeons,  and  yelling  like  savages.  The  excitenieu^ 
continued  for  some  time  after  tlieir  disapjiearance  ; 
and  it  was  not  uiiMl  the  superintendent  prepared  to 
turn  out  the  gas  that  the  crowd  was  persuaded  to 
leave  the  hall. 

A    LATEK    PIOITS    SCKX?;, 

"  At  a  Methodisfcliapel  in  Yorkshire,  England,  on  a 
recent  Sunday,  (.\pril,  IHO'.t.)  there  was  a  regular  b  tile 
between  the  trustees  and  Sunday-school  teachers,  who 
had  been  ordered  out  of  the  building  by  the  trustees. 
One  of  the  teachers  had  ji  large  piece'bitteii  olf  his 
thumb,  and  another  perscn  was  seriously  injured  by 
a  biitlet  being  thrown  at  his  head  from  the  pulpit. 
Bibles  and  hymn-bouks  were  freely  used  in  (he  light." 
—Exlntdjivm  Brooklyn  Daibj  Paper,  May  ;j(^  l»ij'i. 


NOTE  C. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  clerical  defenders  of  sla- 
very in  tlie  Southern  States  of  the  American  Kepublic 
invariably  sought  *o  strengthen  their  position  liy  an 
appeal  to  Holy  Scripture,  as  fully  authorizing  the  ce- 
tabllsliinent  and  propriety  of  ■i/arn-i/.  Independent, 
however,  of  the  sanction  deduced  from  the  Bible,  it 
also  seems  that  iliey  could  see  "(iod's  providential 
care"  manifested  on  behalf  of  the  inhuman  system. 
The  pious  Bishop  Elliott,  of  Savannah,  Georgia,  in  a 
thanks,'j;iving  sermon,  thus  alluded  to  slavery,  lie  said : 

'•  It  is  very  curious  and  very  striking  in  this  connec- 
tion to  trace  out  the  history  of  slavery  in  this  country, 
and  to  observe  (iod's  providential  care  over  it  ever 
since  its  introiluction,  iVfrlciui  slavery  had  its  origin 
in  tbiH  I  iiiinlry  in  iiii  ac't  of  mercy,  to  Si>ve  the  Indian 
fVo;ii  11  t  lil  which  was  destroyin-'  him:  but  while  the 
Indian  has  perished,  the^puli-lilute  w  ho  was  brouL'hl 
to  die  in  his  place  has  lived,  inospeted,  and  mulliplied 
Behold  the  pro\  idi'iitial  interposilion  I  Then,  when 
tlie  slave-trade  was  destroyed,  tlie  inability  any  longer 
to  obtain  slaves  through  imporlaiion  I'oired  upon  mas- 
ters in  these  Slates  a  greater  attention  to  the  conifoit:. 
and  morals  of  tin  ir  slaves.  The  family  relation  wim 
fostered,  the  marriage  tie  grew  in  impurlance,  and  Iho 
S(IO,Oi;0  slaves  who  inhabited  these  States  at  lheclo>iuii 
of  our  ports  i.n  1S()8  ha\«'.  in  the  short  space  of  tlfty 
years,  grown  into  four  millions." 

How  widel,  (lill'ereul  have  hern  the  conclusions 
drawn  by  NorUi>  rn  and  other  ClirisUan  teachers  friiiii 
the  same  iuspinrd  word  resiM>cling  sliwery;  and  how 
plaiulv  they  crui  now  trace  the  linger  of  Proxiilenci'  in 
its  total  abol"ion  !  \ei,  strange  to  say.  tlie  American 
Ueligioes  Tract  Society,  during  the  existence  of  sluveij' 
in  the  Sou  Ji.  never  peniiitled  the  imUllcatiiHi  ut  aun 


nont.    (Cri(!R 

Iiij,'h  McMa- 
lic  pliitrnrin, 
liii'lior  111), 
ly  W.  I'owirt, 
le  die. 

i)r  any  ono  to 
lUl  to  it.  An 
,1  doclai'o  thu 

lioctliain  was 
Tlmt,  as  thi.j 

0  dissolution 
u  tlio  Imll,  as 

1  their  oxpec- 
liiyiii^'  to  and 
r"tlic)iall  at- 
il  tliitluT,  we 
stnitrnlin;,'  for 

Ul  "^iU  Ot'  till! 

L-taiii,  was  as 
lines  WaliiiT, 
r  his  arm.  and 
ctwccn  them, 
■r  niakiii";  ills 
eized  hoKl  of 
1  ill,  and  soon 
luld  doulilless 
for  the  iiitro- 
e  or  six  Irish- 
i)  armed  with 

wild  whoops 
ks  ill  the  most 
z,  out,  "  c;icar 
ids  were  scut- 
e  wildest  con- 
ii;  of  rowdies 
i^ats  witli  tiieir 
"lieextitemout. 
isappearanco  ; 
it  iirepared  to 

persuaded  to 


,  Einjland.ona 


APPENDIX. 


181 


te 


iilar  1)  tlUi 
leliers,  who 
the  trustees, 
hit  leu  olf  his 
ly  injured  by 
1  thu  i)ulpit. 
in  lheiii,'ht." 
ij  ?,d,  laii'i. 


fenders  of  sla- 
•iean  Kepuhlic 
insition  by  i\n 
•iziiiK  the  C6- 
Independent, 
tlu)  Bible,  it 
lirovidential 
luiiKin  system, 
ticoriiia,  in  a 
v-ery.  lie  said : 
ill  this  I'oiiucc- 
this  country, 
over  it  ever 
•  had  its  origin 
ve  I  lie  Indian 
Imt  while  the 
o  was  brouL'hl 
lid  luiiltiplieil 
'Iheii,  wlieii 
ity  any  Ioh.u'it 
I'cd  iipiin  ina-i- 
o  th(.'  eoml'oit,' 
y  relation  wan 
taiiee,  Ml. I  thu 
it  theehi^iUH 
pace  of  lU'Ly 


u'  coni-tusions 
tpachers  In  mi 
cry ;  and  lunv 
Pro\iilenee  in 
the  Annrieaii 
I'Ueeof  sluvcri' 
IliuliiMi  ot  anj 


thins  roflecfing  upon  that  vile  oppression ;  and,  in  its 
republications,  generally  expuiitced  all  that  had  been 
written  a,s;ainst  slavery  by  others  1 

Slavery  has  caused  the  greatest  disunion  amon;; 
Christian  ministers  as  well  as  among  Christian  people. 
Since  the  close  of  the  American  rebellion,  a  proposition 
for  reun-ion  among  Northern  and  Southern  Methodists 
was  promptly  rejected,  and  the  or;:an  of  the  latter 
body,  the  h'tiuca/ia',  MrlhnilUI,  the  leadin;;  Southern 
journal  of  that  denomination,  published  at  Uiclinioud, 
made  the  following  remarks  on  the  >ub.iect: 

"A  formal  reunion  with  Xorthern  Me'hodism  is  to 
be  deprecated  iis  the  most  intolerable  calamity  that 
could  befall  our  Southern  Zion.  To  consent  to  it  on 
the  terms  suggested,  we  must  ab.iure  our  iirinciples, 
Baerilice  our  position  of  iiserulncs-i,  consii^n  the  me- 
mory of  our  brethren  and  fathers  to  inlaiiiy.  pronounce 
the  sentence  «f  self-condeinuation  upon  our  \\liole 
communion,  and  accept  a  feature  in  the  moral  discipline 
of  £  (lomiuaiit  Church  which  dooms  to  death  and  dam- 
nation all  who  have  been  connected  with  what  it  deno- 
minates '  tlie  great  evil '— •  the  detested  sin  of  slavery.'  " 

How  '•  kindly  allectionate "  are  sucii  exhibitions 
among  the  divinely  eulighteued  1 


NOTE  D. 

The  following  extract  from  tlmt  creatly  admired 
work,  /l<i.r/ir\<  .Vt/z/iAs'  /,\yf.  (unabridged,)  will  give  a 
fair  idea  of  the  revolting  orthodox  opinion  concerning 
the  vengeance  of  God  : 

"Yoiir  torments  shall  bo  universal.  The  soul  and 
the  body  shall  each  have  its  torments.  The  guilt  of 
tlielr  s'ns  will  be  to  damned  souls  like  tinder  to  gun- 
powdr.-— to  make  the  llames  of  hell  take  hold  of  them 
with  f  try.  The  eyes  shall  be  tortured  with  sights  of 
liorro;  and  hosts  of  devils  and  damned  souls.  The 
ear  shdl  be  tortured  with  the  bowlings  and  curses  of 
their  companions  in  torment.  Their  smell  shall  be 
tortured  with  the  fumes  of  brimstone,  iiud  the  litpiid 
mass  of  eternal  lire  shall  prey  on  every  part.  No  drop 
of  water  shall  be  allowed  to  cool  tlieir  tongues  ;  no 
moineiit's  respite  permitted  to  relieve  their  agonies." 

What  a  hideous  picture  !  And  y(^t  poor  Baxter  be- 
lieved his  (iod  to  be  merciful  and  gracious — ''  Whose 
mercy  endureth  forever !" 

A  terrilie  "Sight  of  Hell,"  from  a  Catholic  point  of 
view,  will  further  illustrate  the  fearful  teachings  of 
religion : 

"  IIEI.I.,  nEriCTED  FOR  THE  YOUNO, 

.  "  At  present,  (says  the  Pull  .Uull  (iazeltfi.)  when  there 
is  so  much  discussion  abon*  what  all  children  should 
be  taught,  it  is  iiseiui  to  know  what  some  children  are 
taught.  We  hav(!  before  us  the  tenth  of  a  series  of 
books  for  children  and  young  persons,'  composed 
Dy  the  Rev.  J.  i'urniss,  C.S.S.U.,  and  published  by 
authorit.y,  for  it  is  stamped  ^pirinU^n  siiix  riorum.' 
Its  title  is  Till'  Sir/ht  <>/  ihU.  and  its  contents  an;  quite 
lis  startling  as  ,lie  title.  Tlu;  ehiltlren  who  are  in- 
structed out  of  this  work  will  learn,  "it  seems  likely 
that  hell  is  in  the  middle  of  the  earth:'  and  the  Rev. 
J.  Furniss  adds  :  •  Wo  know  how  far  it  is  to  the  middle. 
of  the  earth.  It  is  just  four  thousand  miles.  So  If 
hell  is  in  the  niiddle  of  tlu'  earth,  it  is  four  tlioiisiind 
miles  to  the  horrible  prison  of  hell.'  Down  in  tliis 
place  is  a  terrilie  noise.  The  children  are  asked  to 
'  listen  to  the  tremendous,  tlm  bin'rible  uproar  of  mil- 
lions and  iiiillloiis  and  millions  of  toriiieiited  creatures, 
mad  with  the  fury  of  hell.  t)li  1  the  screams  of  fear, 
the  groanings  of  horror,  the  yells  of  rage,  the  cries  of 
pain,  tlie  shouts  of  agony,  the  shrieks  of  despair  from 
millions  on  millions!  'i'liere  you  hear  them  roaring 
like  lions,  liissinu;  like  seriieuts,  houjiiitr  like  dogs, 
and  wailing  like  draiioiis.  'J'liere  you  liciir  the  gnash- 
ing of  teeth  ami  the  fearful  blas|)lieiiiies  of  the  devils. 
Above  all,  you  hear  the  roarinu'  of  the  tlmnders  of 
<!od"s  anger,  which  sh.ikes  hell  to  its  foundations. 
But  there  is  another  sound.  There  is  in  hell  a  sound 
like  that  of  many  waters.  It  is  a<  if  ail  the  ri\ers  and 
oceans  of  the  world  were  pouring  thenisi  Ives  with  a 
great  splash  down  on  the  floor  of  hell  Is  it.  then, 
really  the  sinind  of  wati  ri«  '  It  \»  Ayi-  the  rivers  and 
oceauji  of  the  earth  pouring  llieins"Ivi  s  Into  hell  '  No. 
What  is  it,  then?  It  is  the  sound  of  oceiins  of  tears 
running  down  Iroin  countless  milli'iiis  of  eyes.  'I'hey 
«ry  forever  and  (!ver.  They  'ry  bec;iiise  the  suliilnir- 
ous  srnoke  toniicnts  their  e.,e>.  They  cry  because 
they  are  in  darkness.  They  cry  beeausc  they  have 
lost  the  beautiful  heaven.  Tlii'y  cry  becau-e  the  sharp 
lire  burns  theiu.  Little  child,  it  is  .-  tier  to  cry  one 
Uau"  of  repeutaucu  now  than  to  cry  mitious  of  tears  in 


hell.'  It  Is  hardly  needful  to  follow  the  Rev.  J.  Fur- 
niss through  all  his  ghastly  pictures.  The  foregoing 
passage  is  a  fair  specimen  of  his  style,  and  the  sub- 
stance of  his  remarks  is  not  so  attractive  as  to  induce 
us  to  (luote  at  great  length.  W'a  can  not,  however, 
withhold  the  following  picture  of  what  is  to  be  wit- 
nessed in  the  tliird  dungeon— that  is  in  the  lowest 
depths  of  hell :  '  The  roof  is  red-hot ;  the  walls  arc  red- 
hot;  the  tloor  is  like  a  thick  sheet  of  red  hot  iron. 
See,  on  the  middle  of  that  red-hot  iron  floor  stands  a 
girl.  She  looks  about  sixteen  years  old.  She  has  nei- 
ther shoes  nor  stockings  on  her  feet.  The  door  of 
this  room  lias  never  been  opened  before  since  she  first 
set  her  loot  on  the  red-hot  floor.  Now  she  sees  that 
the  door  is  opening.  She  rushes  forward.  She  has 
cone  down  on  her  knees  on  the  red-hot  floor.  Li-ten  ! 
she  speaks.  She  says,  "  I  have  beiui  standing  with  i:iy 
bare  feet  on  tills  red-hot  lloor  for  years.  Day  and 
niglit  my  only  standing-place  has  been  this  reil-hot 
floor.  Sleep  never  came  on  me  for  a  moment  that  I 
might  forget  this  liorribh'  burning  tloor."  "  Loak,"  she 
says,  ••  at  my  burnt  and  bleeding  feet.  Let  me  go  olf 
this  burning  floor  for  one  moiu-  nt,  only  for  a  sin.gle, 
sliort  moineiit.  Oh!  that  in  tliis  endless  eterniiy  of 
years  I  might  forg(!t  the  pain  only  for  one  sinirle  mo- 
ment." Tile  devil  answers  her  question:  "I)o  you 
ask,"  he  s.ays,  ''for  a  moment,  for  one  moment,  to  for- 
get your  pain ?  No,  not  for  one  single  moment  dining 
the  never  ending  eternity  of  years  shall  you  ever  leave 
this  red  hot  lloor."  "Is  it  so?"  the  girl  says,  with  a 
sigh  that  seems  to  break  her  heart ;  "  tiieii,  at  least,  let 
somebody  go  to  my  little  brothers  and  sisters,  who  arc 
alive,  and  tell  them  not  to  do  the  bad  thing.-;  wliich  I  did, 
so  that  they  will  never  have  to  come  and  stand  on  the 
red-hot  floor."  The  devil  answers  hera.gain,  "Your 
little  brothers  and  sisters  have  the  priests  to  tell  them 
these  things.  If  they  will  not  listen  to  the  priests, 
neither  would  they  listen  even  if  somebody  should  go 
to  them  from  the  dead." '  The  concluding  sentence 
proves  that  the  'mocking  liend'  can  twist  Scripture  to 
his  own  ends.  It  is  clear,  also,  that  the  Ri;v.  ,1.  Fur- 
niss has  no  scruple  in  accepting  the  devil's  advocac.v 
of  'tlie  priests.'  It  is  permitted  to  file  upholders  of 
any  creed  to  spread  it  abroad  without  opposition  :  but 
those  who  use  such  questionable  methods  as  the  Rev. 
J.  Furniss  deserve  censure  evCn  wliile  they  enjoy  tole- 
ration. Lest  it  be  supposed  that  we  have  selected  an 
obsolete  work  for  comment,  we  may  add  that  the  coj)y 
before  us  was  published  in  181)4.  On  tlie  cover  its 
autlior  is  styled  'Father'  Furniss.  Were  he  really  a 
father,  he  would  never  have  penned  such  a  work,  nor 
would  he  have  enjoined  on  otliors  the  duty  of  teaching 
its  doctrines  to  children." 

Religious  tract  societies  circulate  siniilar  pious 
blasphemies  for  the  ediflcatiou  of  women  and  children, 
and  large  sums  are  regularly  expended  in  order  to  ter- 
rify the  "'unconverted"  and  bring  them  to  '"belief" 
by  stereotyphig  such  savage  and  iiihumau  threats. 


NOTE  E. 

A  PROOF  of  the  tender  mercies  of  the  state  form  of 
Christianity  was  given  in  the  London  Xiiliuntd  AV- 
rhnth-r  of  .April,  ls64,  about  four  weeks  ])revious  to 
the  great  Bible  Meeting  lield  in  Exeter  Hall: 

"'It  is.  we  are  assured,  unquestionably  true  that  on 
Thursilay,  the  lOtli  instant,  the  church-w  u'dens  of 
lirosele.v  (near  Birmingham)  levied  a  distraiui  on  t!ie 
goods  (if  .James  Clark,  a  poor  laboring  man,  for  the 
non-pavinent  of  the  sum  of  one  sliillim;  and  llireepencu 
halfpenny,  which  the  said  .l:imes  Clark  was  calh'd 
upon  to  contribute  toward  certain  expensi's  which  are 
annually  incurred  by  the  congregation  tliil  worships 
in  Broscley  p:irisli  church  :  the  articles  sei/ed  in  satis- 
faction of  this  claim  consisted  ofa  clock,  an  oak  chest, 
an  o;dc  cupboard,  two  tables,  seven  chairs,  a  tea-tray, 
a  looking-L'lass,  a  smoothing-iron,  :nul  a  -traw  mat- 
tra-s:  ainl  that  Clark  has  a  family  of  six  children, 
who.  toffcther  with  his  wit'-,  bed-ridden  mother,  aged 
eiiihty-three,  and  his  idioli.-  relative,  aired  forty-three, 
constitute  the  household  which  has  Ik-  n  deprivinl,  at 
an  inclement  season,  of  so  many  hum'A,  but  to  them 
valuable,  necessaries  in  ordc  r  that  t!i«  church  of  th" 
state  may  get  the  iinm.tlceiit  amount  of  lllteen  ^ienc,e 
halfpenny.  Who  can  read  sucli  an  account  of  Christian 
charity  us  this  without  being  filled  with  the  greatest 
Indiu'i.iilion  and  disgu-t  at  the  system  which  is  tlia 
cause  of  such  di.-icraceful  and  cruel  proceediiiss  V" 

The  same  paper,  in  its  weekly  issue  in  May,  IS(K, 
thus  alludes  to  a  scene  at  a  collection  for  church-rates 
in  Kdiiibur.ih  : 

'CuuHCU  IUte.— There  t.-^   a  terrible  scene  iu 


188 


APPENDIX. 


a.'  •  ■ 


Edinburgh  on  Tuesday  -vrcpk,  in  conscqnrnpc  of  a  sale 
by  auction  of  goods  seized  for  niinister's  money.  About 
four  thousand  people  assenibk'd  round  the  place  of 
sale,  and  the  goods  seized  were  taken  possession  of, 
smashed,  and  burned  in  St.  Andrew's  street.  Surely 
it  is  time  the  authorities  of  Edinburgh  saw  the  injustice 
of  such  a  rate.  Tliis  is  not  the  iirst  "scene'  that  has 
been  produced  in  Edinburgh  through  the  enforcement 
of  what  is  justly  considered  an  unjust  ta.\;  and  unless 
the  rate  is  abolished,  we  fear  it  will  not  be  the  last." 

Just  about  the  very  time  of  the  above  disturbance, 
reverend  and  princely  church  majinates  were  in  Exeter 
llall  gloi'ying  in  the  humanity  of  Christian  civilization ; 
and,  while  betti^ing  for  the  benighted  heutlien  in  Borneo, 
were  plundering  their  own  Christian  poor  i".  happy 
Britain  1 


NOTE  F. 

The  more  .nncient  cosmon;onynf  tlie.Iows  has  every 
evidence  of  decided  E;_'yptian  oriirin.  Of  the  cniious 
r(  prc-^eiilations  in  one  of  the  princii)al  tombs  at 
Tliebes,  Miss  Maitineau  says: 

"  It  isimijossilile  to  look  upon  these  representations 
of  the  serjient.  of  the  tree  of  life,  of  \\hieh  tlidsi-  wlio 
ate  wi're  inmle  as  j^'ods,  of  the  niDvin;,'  spirit  of  the 
C'reatiir  ami  of  the  universally  prevalent  ideas  (if  the 
ori;j:inal  sjjn-ad  nf  watel',  the  se])aration  of  the  land 
from  tlie  water,  the  sijriiiijlng  of  vegetation,  and  llie 
sudden  appearance  of  animals  on  the  new  snilace.  and 
the  separation  of  the  upper  air  into  regions  of  aliode, 
without  seeing  whenei;  was  derived  i]w.  tirst  of  tlie 
two  accounts  of  the  creation  given  in  the  book  of  Ge- 
nesis."     . 

And  aL'ain:  "In  their  theory  of  the  formation  of  the 
world,  they  (the  Eiryptians)  believed  that  when  the 
formless  void  of  eternal  matter  began  to  jKirt  oil'  into 
realms— the  igneous  elements  asct'ndiiig  and  berom-, 
ing  a  firmament  of  liiTy  bodies,  the  heavier  portions 
sinldngand  beconung  compacted  into  earth  and  sea — 
the  earth  gave  out  animals,  beasts,  and  reptiles  ;  an 
idea  evidently  derived  from  their  annual  spectacle  of 
the  coming  Ibrlh  of  myriads  of  living  creatures  from 
the  soil  of  their  valleyOn  the  snbsiiU'uce  of  tlie  Hood. 
SVhen  we  reiucmber  that  to  them  the  Xile  was  the 
sea,  and  so  called  by  them,  and  that  they  had  before 
them  the  spectacle,  which  is  seen  nowhei-e  else,  of 
the  springing  of  the  green  herb  after  the  separation  of 
the  waters  from  the  land,  we  shall  see  how  diti'erent 
t!«'ir  view  of  the  creation  must  be  from  any  which  we 
could  naturally  form." 


f 


NOTE  O. 


TERRIBI.E  ABUSES  IN  COUNTUY  WORKUOUSES. 

From  London  Vhiistian  Worlif. 

The  Lnnrrf  has  done  good  siTvice  in  directing  pub- 
lic attention  to  the  horror.-i  of  Farnhani  workhou-^e, 
and  theri'by  leading  lis  (rj  ask  wheilicr  the  same  scan- 
dalous negieet  may  not  be  ])ossihle  elsewhere.  \\'ith- 
in  sight  of  Aldersiiot.  not  far  from  a  bishop's  jialaee, 
and  iiiuler  the  ey<'s  of  guardians  nml  inspi'ctors,  oHi- 
tial  and  amateur,  such  aboniinabli  •  nielty  has  been 
periietrated  that  it  can  only  be  characterized  as  ••  a  re- 
proarli  to  England,  a  scandal  and  a  curse  to  a  coiiiilry 
V'liich  Calls  itself  civilized  anil  (  j.risllan."  For  four- 
teen years  cruelties  nhnost  incredilde  have  been  prac- 
ticed. altlKniLdi  the  visitors'  liook  be;irs  no  evidence 
of  a  siuL'le  complaint  ha\  ing  heeu  made.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  slaleineni  iierpeliially  recurs.  "ThiMvards 
MIC  (lean  and  every  tiling  very  Valisfactory."  I'lider 
the  guidance  of  the  /,f/;/(v/',s' commissioners  we  know 
what  liampsliiit!  visitors  ineim  by  ••clean  "  and  every 
thintr  being  "  very  satisfactory.''  The  worklnnise  pre- 
luiss  are  badly  consirmled.  the  wards  glooniy  Jtnrl 
coiiit'orlless.  and  dirty  heyoiid  description.  The  (Vc- 
cominodalion  ]Md\  ided  for  old  and  young,  for  tramps, 
male  and  female,  and  espeilally  for  the  Inlirm.  is  in- 
toleialile.  'I  lie  casuals  ari'  loi  kid  n|i  ;i||  night  in  noi- 
Bonie  "(agis"  willioiil  loiiil  A  shoi'l  lime  sinci'.  a 
))i>or  wdnniii.  on  the  verge  of  hei'  conllnemeiit.  was  im- 
JMisiined  in  tiiis  manner,  and  when  ilieporii'i  iinlixk- 
ed  iIk  cage  next  mornhiL'.  she  was  liMiiid  to  have  been 
already  foiii'  lioiirh  in  I  lie  iiains  of  chihbbirlh.  The  in- 
inales  of  the  iniirmary  are  also  loi  ked  in  all  niirlit.  and 
llii  cnieliy  (d  tills  can'only  he  ri.!,'lillv  Imagined  when  it 
Is  reinemliered  that  cmmv  conM'Uli  (ice  is  out  of  doors. 
I'cisons  UHirtally  si(  k  are  hi'l  day  and  ni'lii  williout 
liny  nursing  aileiidaiice  e.\(e|)i  what  tin  >  miglil  or 
might  not  mc(c(d  in  siininioning  hy  rinudnu' u  bell 
for  a  lairet',  >vhi»  might  bu  in  any  part  of  u  laigu  and 


straggling  building.  The  nursing  staff  for  ft-oni  sl.Nly 
to  ninety  iiatients  consists  of  one  [laid  nurse  and  one 
male  pauper  assistant-  an  invalid,  wlio  has  bcv-n  lap- 
ped liv('  limes  for  dropsy.  I'niil  Dr.  I'owell,  tli(^  ine- 
dical  ollicer,  who  has  waged  a  good  and  jiersistent 
fl«ht  against  the  evils  of  lli(>  place,  insisted  that  towels 
.should  be  allowed,  the  inmates,  after  washing  or  bath- 
ing, dried  themselves  on  the  sheets  of  their  beds. 
The  m.ssterof  the  workhouse,  who  has  since  been  dis- 
missed for  gross  immonility,  several  times  threatened 
the  doctor  with  personal  violence  because  he  persish^d 
in  jjioposiiig  reform.  When  the  doctor  ordered  it 
'  mutton  '  dinner,  thick  lumps  of  toiiirh  beef  and  ba- 
con were  served  out  to  poor  (dd  men  and  women  with- 
out a  tooth  in  their  heads.  The  children  did  not  fare 
any  better.  The  '  nursery  '  is  a  gloomy,  damp,  brick- 
floored  room,  with  absolutely  no  fiirniliire  e.\cept  one 
low  wooden  beiielij  on  w  bich'seven  or  ei^dit  little  chil- 
dren were  sittimr,  in  front  of  the  lire.  They  had  no 
toys,  no  amusement,  and  no  education  "  Such  are  » 
few  of  the  horrors  which  the  Laiiat  has  laid  baie.  A 
more  deploratde  slate  of  things  can  hardly  be  ima- 
gined. 'I'he  iiuestion  is.  Are  other  country  work- 
houses in  a  similar  plight '/  It  is  evident  we  can  no 
longer  rely  on  the  reports  of  i)ooi-la\v  inspectors. 
Even  independent  visitors  aii|iear  to  have  been  allliet- 
ed  with  blindness  in  jiart.  Ilaving  begun  the  work, 
we  trust  the  Lancet  will  pursue  it  with  uiillinching 
fidelity. 

the    I.0\1)0.\    I'OOIi. 

Distress  al  vays  reigns  in  I.ondou,  the  very  rich  .''ml 
the  very  poor  being  close  neighbors  in  tin;  fjreat 
metropolis.  'I  he  London  Tliiits  notices  that  at  cer- 
tain doors  of  M)me  of  llie  districts  of  the  city  cne.vdB 
of  men  may  b  >  seen  joslliiii;.  striving,  almiist  iight- 
ing  each  otiiei'  for  adinission ;  and  lln;  admission, 
when  once  secured,  is  not  to  see  a  favoriti;  actor  or 
hear  a  popular  preacher,  or  to  witness  a  i)rize-tiglit  or 
rat-lniil.  hut  to  gain  the  jwivilege  of  breaking  hard 
stones  in  a  cidd.  muddy  yard  attached  to  tlu;  jiarisli 
workhouse,  for  the  re\va"rd  of  tliicepenci!  and  a  loaf 
of  tiread.  '•These  men,"  it  adds,  ••are  not  clad  in  the 
usual  stone  yard  apparel :  they  wear  good  coats — rags 
are  scarcely  to  be  seen.  Tin  y  are  men  who  not  very 
long  ago  were  earning  Iroiu  iffi  to  if  Ki  weekly,  to  whom 
the  Ncry  meiitiini  of  the  wdilihoiise  would  ha\  e  been 
coiitaminalion  ;  and  heretliey  struggle  and  wrestle  for 
its  most  mea!j;re  advaiili.ges."  'J'lie  journal  referred  to 
then  makes  some  couiparisons  of  Ilie  relief  afhu'iled 
to  the  poor.  Jliiiing  llie  winters  of  li-ii;.")  (i,  the  aver- 
age uaiiy  number  of  laborers  in  the  J'oplar  stone  yard, 
attached  to  one  of  the  J^ondon  {loorhoiises,  was  ^00 ; 
hut  in  tin;  week  ending  .laiiuary  !)tli,  IHtiT,  the  daily 
average  was  over  11)00.  In  the  hist  week  of  IStiti,  that 
piorhoiise  gave  oiit-door  parochial  relief  lo  4^41)  per- 
sons, as  compared  with  I'.iTl  in  the  la-t  week  of  l(St).5. 
This  establishment  is  now  giving  relief  to  its  iilmost 
capacity,  and  this  fact,  t.igethcr  with  the  annoiiiice- 
ment  that  marly  ^dl  the  funds  have  been  drawn  out  of 
the;  London  savings  banks— the  working-classes  hav- 
ing biH'ii  Irom  four  to  si.\  months  without  regular  wa- 
•fcs — shows  that  at  jireseiit  there  is  greater  distress  in 
J.ondon  than  has  been  known  for  a  long  time.~.4//i'- 
r'uun  I'ajKr. 


NOTE  If. 

''iinisrrAMTY  is  iiuperions  iii  its  assumptions;  it 
claims  to  be  all  that  is  triitl:l'iii.  iiotile.  and  miigiiani- 
inous  ;  it  boasts  of  its  humanity  and  of  its  moral  and 
civili/iiig  influence;  but  what  a  biiilesijiie  npon  its 
pieleiisions  is  its  actual  history  — sectarian  i  iiiiiity, 
grosM  iii(cdei;iiii  e.  iiiid  bloody  iiiid  inhir/iiaii  p(  r-eeu- 
tioii.  (an  Chrisiianily.  w  iili  i:s  arnjgance  and  cupid- 
ity, show  a  purei  record  than  ihat  exhibited  by  aiici(;nt 
pagliniMii  ?  C'hri-tian  naliims  are  preenifnenl  for 
fin  ir  love  of  war.  plunder,  and  (levast:iiion ;  and  so 
gre.'/(  I  ■  lheirniiitii;(l  distrust  that,  even  during  the  un- 
certain periods  win  n  there  is  no  actual  war,  tlie  iiniicd 
/*•(/('(' of  Kiirope  alone  costs.  iis  has  lieen  stated,  al'Oiit 
.f.'iilD.OIHUKH)  sierliiiL'  (^l..''>()l).(>nn,ni»n  annually  1  Can 
Cliristian  piMiple  claim  to  la"  nii'ie  iipriizht.  more  hon- 
orable,an  I  mon  ''xemplary  than  liiiddbists,  Mohamme- 
dans, or  l'ars<-'-^.'  In  niimeidiis  instances  Iherrhics 
of  (  himi  or  .liqiaii  might  liritii;-  tli  '  Idiish  of  shame  to 
entire  Christendom.  What  among  the  deceptivt! 
tiansactioiis  of  llilile  worshipers-  who  boast  of  n 
purer  theology— is  still  most  e(mimon  •?  I''raiids,  in 
easll(!  and  in  court,  in  slate  artairsand  in  chiirdi  mat- 
ters ;  frauds  in  nalionid  inlrigue.  in  diplomacv,  and  in 
naval  and  iiiilitarv  itlliiil-- i  fruinls  in  seiialecliainbers 
mill  III  lnw  iribtiniilH,  llii'locllotisaiid  ina|i|ioliitiiuiiilH; 


for  fi'om  sixty 

iiiirsi'  and  oiio 

liHH  bt'i'ii  iiii)- 

)\Vl'll,  till'    IIU.'- 

iiiil  iicrcistiMit 
(•(1  tliiit  tiiwcln 
^liin<>:  or  l)alli- 
>r  Ihcii'  beds, 
•'iiicc^bi'oii  (lis- 
ics  llii'i'iifciiecl 
<i'li('  i)i'rsistiHl 
tor  oi'dcicil  H 
,  bci'l'  and  ha- 
l  wonu'ii  wltli- 
u  did  not  Ihri; 
,  (lanip,  lirick- 
M'o  uxccpt  ono 
4i:ht  littU^  chil- 
'I'licy  had  no 
"  Such  arc;  ii 
<  laid  Iiaio.  A 
ardly  lio  iina- 
■oiiniry  work- 
Mit  wo  can  no 
,\v  in<i((ctor:J. 
vc  bci  11  alllii't- 
;un  the  work, 
th  laillincliiu'' 


•  very  rich  .i.iirt 

in   the  f;rcat 

cs  thai  at  ccr- 

Ih!  city  crowds 

,  almost  l:,i;hl- 

lic  admission, 

•orilc  actor  or 

1  i)ri/i'-ti!4!it  or 

break ini,'  hard 

to  the  ))arish 

nco  and  a  loal' 

not  clad  in  tin; 

od  coats — ra;;K 

1  w  lio  not  very 

■ekly,  !<•  whom 

[mid  luue  been 

d  wrestle  for 

d  referred  to 

let'  allbrded 

j  <).  the  aver- 

r  sioiie-yard. 

^es,  was  )IW) ; 

ISliT,  the  daily 

of  ISOti,  that 

to  4.)M)  per- 

week  of  IStiS. 

to  ils  inmost. 

le  annoiiijce- 

Irann  out  of 

-ciassc's  hav- 

t  re;.'iilar  wii- 

er  dislrcsH  iii 

lime. — Aiiif:- 


eniplioiis :  it 
111(1  niii;.'iiani- 
ils  mural  and 

i|l'c  iipnii  it8 
11  iaii  I  iiiiiity. 
man  pi  r-ecu- 
ice  and  ciipid- 
ted  by  ancient 
■('('■iiifiieiit  for 
alioii ;  and  so 

111  in)r  the  un- 
,'nr.  the  aiiiiiul 

stilted,  al'Oiit 
iiiully  !  Can 
hi.  more  bon- 
is, Mohamme- 

I's  the  erhica 

I  of  Hlianic  to 
he    (leceptiv(! 

beasi    of    a 
l''raiids,  in 

II  clini'(  h  mat ' 
iiiiacy.  and  in 
iale-eliiinib('rH 
'P"l(tll»m)f»; 

ii 1  Tlf  ■     ■ 


APPENDIX. 


183 


frauds  by  word  and  by  oath,  in  buviuf;  ni.d  sellinv:, 
in  ;,'ivin:,'  and  reeeivinj,';  frauds  by  w'-ei^ht,  and  frauds 
by  measure,  and  frauds  by  udulteratioii,  and  increasint; 
frauds  ill  eve  y  inia;;iiiablo  shape  and  form  that  may 
escape  the  peially  of  crime! 

JJut  it  may  be  said  that  a  majorijty  of  such  ])orHonH 
are  not  triu^  Clirislians.  Widl,  if  they  are  not,  lei  us 
Ro  anion;,' llu^  re\ereiid  clerLry ;  they,  if  any,  are  sui(!lv 
of  the  ri;,dit  stamp;  nearly  all  of  t'liein  lia\('  sworn  or 
solemnly  declared  that  they  have  been  called— moved 
by  the  '•  Ihdy  (Jhost"— to  jireach  Hie  (Jospel.  Th(!n 
whatofthe  priests?  Alas:  willi  all  ilieir  spiritual  en- 
dow iiieiibs.  lliey  have  proved  U>  be  but  frail  and  falli- 
ble men  ;  and  thoiii^h  there  are  many  (■xcellent  persons 
umoiij;  them,  y('t,  as  a  class,  in  proportion  to  their 
numbers,  it  may  be  .siid  that  they  excel  ali  others  in 
sensuality;  ai,,'.  so  nolorioiis  have  they  become  in 
this  respect  lliat  one  can  scarcely  read  'a  newsiiaper 
that  does  not  beara  record  of  their  vileiiess.  'I'oavoid 
scandal,  much  is  connived  at.  and  many  of  the  clerical 
culprits  permith'd  to  escape  where  oiliers  would  be 
li(  Id  accoiiulal)le;  yet  so  heinous  have  lieeii  some  of 
their  crimes  tliat  llie  law  has  had  to  take  its  course, 
and  felon  priests  are  now  iiayiii;;-  the  penalty  in  iirisons 
and  iKMiileiiliaries.  and  evd'ii  tin;  scallold"  itself  has 
often  had  to  close  a  career  of  cleri"al  infamy.  The 
latest  case  of  Ihe.kiiid  at  present  remembered  is  that 
of  the  Itev.  Mr.  Hardin,  a  .Melliodist  minister,  who, 
for  thi^  sak(^  of  a  paramour,  mur.lered  his  wife  in  New- 
Jersey  a  few  years  since  and  was  lianired  for  the  crime.* 

indeed,  of  late  so  fre(pienl  anil  scandalous  ha.e 
been  pi'ieslly  amours  thai  IIk;  secular  press  in  many 
places  has  been  forced  to  notice  Ihe  fact  and  to  issue 
a  warniii!.;  to  ()ver-i)i(jiis  and  coi.Hdiiit:  females  ;  and  in 
coiise(pieiie(-  of  the  caution  thus  j^iveii  a^rainst  the 
wiles  (d'  the  ordained  servants  of  tlu'  i.ord,  the 
Pitljiit,  for  .N'ovember,  hsii7,  a  reli-^ious  niaija/ine, 
makes  the  following- extraordinary  comineutd  in  pallia- 
tion of  clerical  I'.iUibility : 

A    CUniOUS    AIl(ii:JIKNT    FOR    A.    nKLICilOrs  SI.\OAZINE. 

"  We  infer  froiri  what,  we  hear  in  private  conversa- 
tion, and  w  IkiI  we  I'ead  in  Ihe  ))ubli('  journals,  that  llie 
])iiblic  lliiiik  it  very  marvidoiis  Ihat  so  many  of  the 
cleriry  are  wrecked  upon  tlu!  rock  of  seiisiiality.  The 
astonishment  is  not  aslonisliiiii,'.  i'eople  who  do  not 
make  a  habit  of  Ihinkint,'  will  hardly  be  thou,i,ditful 
enoiiudi  lo  know  tlu^  fact  in  reference  to  tills  matter. 
The  fact  is,  I  here  is  no  profession,  clas^,  or  avocation 
fo  exposed  to  or  templed  by  Ihe  devil  id' sensuality  aB 
the  minisiry.  Tlie  very  sanctity  of  Ilieir  ollice  is  an 
occasion  of  their  stumliliiiL'.  'J'lie ollice  is  confounded 
with  its  occupant.  'J'he  sanclity  id'  the  former  is 
mad(!  tlu^  posses-idii  o|  tin,'  latter.  Now,  the  ollice  is 
an  invnlneralile  myth  ;  ils  nceiipant  is  a  man  of  like 
passions  with  other  men.  No  t(  in]ilalio:  issullicient 
fo  overcoiiK!  tlu!  other  olVice,  while  so  stout-faithod 
nn  occupai;!  of  it  a.s  Peter  the  aposih-  may  fall 
L'rievoiisly  at  the  tlrst  a|iproach  of  the  adveisary. 
Inthinkiiii.'  women  may  seem  to  be  only  temptin;,' 
tile  ollice.  wlieii  Iliey  are  lUiiv  ittiiiLTly  layiiiir  snares  for 
the  occupant,  liytiieir  persisteni  e\iiil)itioii  of  con- 
fidence in  llie  ollice.  lliey  areconlidiiiu'  jiersiste^tly  in 
ils  occiijiant.  And  so  it  comes  to  pass  in  this  way 
that  Ihe  minister,  with  all  his  llesli  and  blood  about 
hi/ij.  has  the  door  id'  lem|italion  thrown  open  to  hiin 
and  then  clicked  behind  him.  iJliiid  coiitidenco  on 
the  one  side,  and  uiiiriiarded  socialiiiity  on  the  oi  her. 
Ic.'id  to  e(|iiivocal  circiniistaiices  as  lo  lioih.  No  man 
ill  the  woild  has  so  few  coiidllions  imposed  ii))on 
him  at  tlu^  liiresliold  of  socii'ly  .is  the  ciery.vman. 
His  |)assport  to  sociely  is  aliiiost  a  fiiftc  minrlin. 
\Vonien  of  both  stales  and  all  a^'cs  are  liis  com- 
jMiiiions,  socially  and  ]iroles>ioiially.  'I'he  rules  of 
isocial  intercommunion  between  the  sexes  are,  in  thiti 
case,  virtually  sus|)eii(led.  WIkiI  would  he  indiscre- 
tion with  oilier  men,  is  a  matter  of  course' with  him. 
lie  shares  or  is  aliernately  adiiiilted  to  the  privacy  (d' 
the  sick-room  w  ilb  the  pl'iysician. 

•"Whenever  spiritual  advice  is  called  for.  tlun'o  ho 
rei^jns  alone  aiul  unuioli'i.ied.  .\nd  he  is  a  sedi'iitary 
man,  of  nervous,  saii^'iiine  tempeiameiit,  and.  like  all 
men  of  lliis  sort  and  life,  Irels  ihe  law  of  hin  Mesh 
warrim;  airainst  the  law  of  his  ndi^'ion.  None  have 
Hiich  p;i<sioiis  as  those  of  sedentary  lile.  in  (iropor- 
tioii  lo  the  idleness  of  the  muscles"  is  the  activity  of 
the  passion-.  'I'hedrvil  lem|ils  Ihe  industrious  ;  idle 
men  tempt  the  devil.  The  eleri;y  sjioiild  Lfive  more 
funest  heed  to  •  iiiiiscr.'ar  Christ  iaiiily."  i'ut,  not  (Uily 
is  Ilieir  life  alUieted  with  deficiency  in  bodily  exercise. 


pf! 


♦  IJelweeii  the 
unl«  wu-ro  huiu 


years  IStiOaiid   ISIW. ,/(>'/?■  I'rotestant 
foi'  murder  hi  Ihu  L'liited  iStatcH.  . 


I  but  it  is  ndditinnallyapciir.ond  with  the  temptations 
I  that  take  advanta''('  of  this  jihysical  feeh'-nesH.  Oon- 
Hiderinur,  then,  tliis  Hand^y-haired  composition,  tliiw 
I  nervous  conibuHtlbllity,  thl.s  superabundance  of  sexual 
I  heat  from  a  deficiency  ill  idiysicHl  exertion,  and  tlii.s 
!  exlraordiiiaryexposuretotlie  wiles  of  I  he  wicked,  and 
I  the  insinuativo  intluence.s  of  unsuHidcion,  tlu!  marvel, 
■  nay,  the  miracle  is  not  that  ho  many,  but  so  few  of  the 
'  cler;,'y  fall  into  the  sins  of  sensuality.  The  wonder 
is,  not  that  so  many  yield,  but  that  so  many  stand 
:  linn  ! ! 

■■  \\  liile  we  rcKard  a  sudden  trip  into  i-ensual  sin  aH 
I  comparatively  tlu!  most  excusable  of  the  ol)li(iuilies 
I  of  which  the  clerf,'y  can  be  (,'uilt.y,  wo  ce"tainly  a(lvis(; 
I  all  those  who  are  thus  i,'iiilty,  or  feel  thomselvea  in 
I  danirer  of  beiiij:.  to  (juit  the  pulpit  at  once  and  for- 
:  ever.  And  hi  noiu!  go  to  Ihe  sacred  ollic(!  who  are 
not  Strom;  in  tlie  llesli  as  in  the  Lord,  and  let  the 
jihysically  feeble  who  are  in  it  leav(!  II,  lest  a  worse 
1  fate  comes  upon  them.  Divine  yracu  will  not  make 
j  amends  fur  physical  iiillrniilies. 

I  _  "And  so  far  from  these  clerical  sins  of  sensuality  be- 
\\\\t  the  iii(!Xi)licablelai)ses  tliey  are  ri'preseiited  to  bo 
by  tli(!  iiiiblic  press  and  lulvate  (irtindys,  they  are  not 
(inly  the  least  surprlsiiiL',  ^(((I  the  moKt  (xriimble,  dm 
tin'  cln-fj!)  can  cof/imit  /  Hut  we  do  not  excuse,  we 
(explain  them.  We  are  'dvinj;  their  comparativo  and 
not  their  actual  criminality. 

j  "As  for  seduction,  that  is  a  crime  than  which  none 
is  more  heinous,  infernal,  and  damnalile.  let  wdio 
will  commit  it.  The  man  who  is  coavicied,  (leserv('n 
(-'Very  twintre  of  tlu!  torture  to  which  he  can  he  sub- 
jected by  llu^  retributive  laws  of  the  divine  govern- 
iiient.  Nor  is  there  any  exiilanation  to  be  (dfered  for 
that  terrible  species  of  the  u'eiimjsensiuility,  id' which 
sevenil  cler;;yineii  in  this  country  nceiil.hj  liace  lieen, 
J'liuud  (jiiUtfi.  and  which  shall  be  nameless  here.  :-iieh 
oll'euses  are  very  peculiarly  odious  and  aliliorreiit  in 
view  (d' the  fact  that  sensual  f,aatiflcation  is  i)()s>ible 
without  adding  more  tliau  one  to  the  number  of  ^he 
deliauclied. 

"Let  all  those  putrid  brctlu'cn  be  cut  off  and  put  away, 
and  let  there  be  a  yiyorous  endeavor  to  lift  the  stand- 
ard of  clerical  purity  in  the  above  as  well  as  in  every 
other  respect;  but  let  it  also  be  reiiu^mbered  that  the 
steadfastness  of  the  cleri^'y  is  a  matter  of  amazement, 
when  tlie  considerations  we  liave  named  are  taken 
into  the  account." 

Not  only  does  the  church  in  many  cases  try  to 
screen  the  foibles  of  its  clergy,  but  witli  geuuiue 
crafiiuess  it  can  connive  at  or  mildly  reprove  the  sins 
of  certain  of  its  UK^nibers  ill  good  standing— that  is, 
good  iiayiiig  members. 

Neal  Don-,  during  his  recent  visit  to  filiigland.  gave 
evidence'  in  c(n'roboratiou  of  this;  in  one  of  his  lec- 
tures \w.  said : 

"1  was  to  be   received  at  a  great  tea  mi^oting  in 
Kdinbiiruh.    In  the  aft(Tnoon  before,  one  of  the  magis- 
trates took  me  in  his  carriage  lor  a  ride  around  that 
ancient  town.    As  we  rode  up  the  famous  Caiioiigain, 
he  stopped,      ' 'i'liis.'  said  he  'is  the  house  of  d(dm 
Knox,  very  much  a-^  lie  left  it.    It  is  now  the  i)roperty 
of  the  church  of  the  JJev.  .Mr. -,  one  ot  the  lead- 
ing rresbyterian  churches  in  this  city,     'i'he  upper 
st()ries  ar(j  oceuiiied  as  dwellings,  and  the  grouiid- 
lloiu'as  a  low  and  vile  grog-shop,  the  rents  going  into 
the  church   Ireasury."     A  little   further  on,  he  said, 
I  '  'I'hero  is  a  grog-shop,  kejit  by  a  .'-on  id'  an  eminent 
I  Scotch  doctor  (if  divinity  of  this  city.     The  capital 
i  furnished  by  Ihe  father,  of  whose  church  the  son  it;  a 
I  prominent  member.' 

"  i'lnrliir  on  he  said,  '  Look  at  thatshoi);  it  is  one 
!  of  the  vilest  in  Edinburgh,  and  is  kept  by  the  heading 
j  elder  (d'  the  leading  l-'resliyterian   church  in  the  city. 
j  A  litfli'  while  ago  li(^  was  convicled  bid'ore  tlu;  police 
court  aii'l  fined  for  harboring  tliievesaiid  iirostitiites; 
I  but  his  standing  in  the  church  has  not.  been  coinpro- 
I  misedln  the  .<lii/hfest  deuree.  Shortly  after,  he  present- 
ed lo  the  church  for  llie  jiulpit.  a  splendid  Itlhle  and 
hymn  l)0(di,  wdiich  are  ii6.v  used  there.'    Many  other 
similar  [daces  werr  p(dnled  out  Ic)  me,  kept  liy  chiireh- 
mciiibers  in  good  standing,  one  of  whom  had  taken 
frein  a  jioor  ragg(!d  wo".iiw),  in  exchange  for  a  pint  of 
u'iii,  a  pair  of  shoes  stripped  from  the  feet  of  one  of 
her  cliildnui," 

Uth.'r  evidence  might  bo  added,  but  this  from  Neal 
Dow  ought  to  be  suilicieiU  for  the  i>reseiit.  Were  in- 
lidels  to  coiiiiteiiance  and  profit  by  such  infamy,  wdiat 
poisoned  shafts  the  ]-.ri('sls  w(Uild  gladly  liiirl  against 
tlii'in;  priesis  will  vilify  them  any  way  :  but,  were  it 
not  for  the  reproachesof  inlloels  and  si)'iritualisls,th(!sa 
abuses  might  be  more  generally  tolerated  by  tbepiiuis; 
and,  were  it  not  for  the  elforts  of  reasoning  skeptics, 
Dritain  might  not  even  at  the  present  day  be  able  tu  . 


184 


APPENDIX. 


t'* 


% 


p  v- 


Iv::- 


^>o 


..pi 


boast  of  its  toiiippinnrooix'ani/iifion.  The  iiiiidd  has 
broiiu'lit  rct'oriu  in  tlu-  Clirhiiaii  cluii-ch  ;  fxliipalc 
liim  witli  Ills  mlvaucrd  ideas,  and  iiitolciaiicu  will  bo 
followed  liy  increased  liypoerisv,  and  oillmdox  nioials 
may  lieeoiih'  ajraiti  so  di'LTeneiale  lliiil  <_  lirl.-liaii  peo- 
ple niMv  be  glad  to  (  opy  tlic  more  honest  and  uimght 
conducl  ot'ijaijan  nations. 

The  I!ev.  I)l-.  liuit.  who  visited  I'A'yP'  '"  l''<'*-  elates 
that,  thoui^di  nearly  all  the  Hi,'yiian  hiialnien  .Jid  at- 
tendants nloni,'  the  Nile  wore  w retihetlly  poor,  and 
tliou;.'h  they  had  ample  op|iortniiity  to  jiille'.  yet  he 
asserts  that  not  an  arliele  of  the  sliu:litest  valiie  was 
ever  missed  by  hiniselfor  by  any  of  his  (ompanions. 

A  writer.  LcivinLT  .:n  aee<itint  of  a  heathen  peoi)le 
pays:  "  Take  the  .lajianese  as  a  wlude.  hiiih  and  low, 
rich  and  poor,  ihey  ;ire  the  best  fed,  be^t  dad,  best 
loil;.'ed,  lea>t  over-wt'rked.  and  mo.-t  ;:enialand  happy 
ix'ople  on  the  fai  e  of  the  earth.  I'ood  is  abundant 
and  cheap.  innii,dnary  wants  rare,  and  thus  li^nipta- 
tions  tv)  crime  are  less  than  with  us,  tlioULjh  the  land 
is  no  I'lopia. 

"There  js  no  such  thinjr  as  pipialor  to  be  seen  in 
Japan.  In  the  houses  i)f  tlie  \ery  poorest,  a  i'iflli 
aveiiiu'  belle  u.i,L:hl  sit  upon  the  matted  lloor  w  iihout 
soiliui;-  her  dres>.  The  strei'ls  .ire  admirably  sewered  ; 
all  olVal  and  irarba^^e  are  re!no\  ed  for  maiiuie. 

'•There  is  no  biLrotry.  The  people  are  wonderfully 
opeirniinded.  'J'hcie  is  no  hatred  of  t'hrisiianity  as 
tiiu'li ;  only  it,  is  feared  us  an  engine  to  cause  political 
chanj,'es." 

What  Christian  state  canb(ia>lof  so  much  worldly 
liapj/iness '/ 


NOTE  I. 


account  of  the  murder  is  "truly 
one  of  the  most  revoltin;;  ever  brou;:iil  to  luiblic  iio"- 
tice.  as  the  lidlowinu'  e.xlrucl.s  from  American  jiapers 


will  sullicienily  si 


A    ItEVOI.TINti    AND    Ot'TUAfiKOUS    CIUMK.— A    CLEKOY- 
MA.V  Willi's  HIS  CHILD  TO   BKATII  I 

The  Rochester  T'/zin/;.  of  Thursday.  Lrives  the  follow- 
ing' liarliculars  of  one  of  the  mostrevollinl;  and  out- 
raireoiis  crimes  we  ever  read.  It  almost  slatrirers  belii'f. 
That  a  liilher-a  clergyman— should  deliberately  whii) 
his  Hull'  son  to  deaili  for  refusing:  to  say  his  jiiayers, 
i;i  one  of  the  most  remarkable  as  it  i«  revoltiiij,' of 
crimes.— />>v/w)  I'Sinulay  Herald. 

'•  We  learn  from  railroad  nien  w  ho  came  from  Medi- 
na this  nuiridnir  tliat  there  was  a  frreat  e.xcitevient 
in  that  villafjre  arisini;  from  a  rejiort  that  a  Presbyterian 
clertrynian,  named  J.iudsley,  residiiii;  a  mile  soiiih  of 
the  vilhiL'e.  yesterday  whipi)ed  his  son.  three  years 
old,  "o  severidy  that  be  died  two  hours  afterward,  be- 
cause he  would  not  sa .  his  jirayers.  liepoi't  adds,  that 
the  child's  tinviers  were  i)rokei"i  by  the  hlows  adminis- 
tered. The  i-eport  seemed  so  nionsti'ous  and  iinmitii- 
ral,  that  we  lelcLrrajihed  to  .Medina  to  learn  if  it  was 
true,  and  received  an  answer  that  it  was. 

•'The  teleiiiaph  stales  that  the  minister  was  two 
hours  whipping?  I  he  child  with  a  heavy  rod,  and  it  died 
within  the  lime  slated  above.  Linds'ley  had  not  been 
arresteil  at  the  lime:  the  dis]>atch  was  sent,  but  we 
learn  that  an  ollicer  from  All)ioii  has  ;:one  to  Medina 
to  take  luni  into  custody.  For  the  sake  of  common 
huuninity.  we  hope  the  story  is  e.\aj;gerated,  and  it  may 
he  iio>sil)le  'h.at  it  is. 

"Sin(  (^  writiiiir  the  above,  we  have  received  by  s)>e- 
clal  telegraph  the  slatcmeiit  of  .Mr.  l.indsley.  the  falh- 
•  f^rof  ilu!  child,  made  to  a  jin'y  summoni'd  by  ((U'eiier 
Chamberlain  :  •  On  the  IKth  of , lime,  the  child  disobey- 
ed Ills  step-mother,  and  1  commenced  correct  int:  him, 
tising  a  shinude  Ibr  the  ))urpose,  and  coniliiue<l  to 
chaslise  him  for  more  than  two  hours,  when  the  child 
bcLran  to  show  si;:ns  of  del)ility  ;  and  1  cea-ed  to  pun- 
ish him.  and  laid  liiin  on  a  couch  and  <'alled  my  wife. 
When  sIk'  saw  the  child,  she  said  he  was  dyiiii;'.  and 
before  twelve  o'clock  hi'  was  (U'ail.'  The  coroner's 
jury  relurned  a  verdict  yoterday.  '  that  death  resulted 
cH'oin  chastiwenieut  by  the  father.'  " 


TIIK    MKDINA    MOXSTEIt! 

The  fidlow !(»;.',  ft'oin   the  KochcHter  (X.  Y.)  X'uhm, 

fjives  fiiither  particulars  of  the  ininist.  r monster 
ne.ar  that  city,  w  ho  w  IdppAd  his  chili!  to  death  for  not 
sayiii;:  his  ))rayei-. — lUi-Un,  /m/.ir. 

"Ilie  account  of  the  .v  hipping;  to  death  of  a  child 
three  years  old  by  its  fallur,  a  clerpnian.  becaiis.  it 
would  not  say  its'prayers.  near  .'Medin.i.  awakened  the 
^1  ealest  iu(liL";nallon  of  luir  citizens  ii;:ainst  the  inhu- 
man father.  The  rejiort  was  hardly  i  icdiled.  so  un- 
natural and  monstrous  was  the  crime  comniilleil.  We 
Idiisli  to  say  it,  but  the  most  sickeniiiL;  and  dreadful 
pait  of  the  unparalleled  horror  was  not  piibli>Ke(l. 

'•  Lindsley's  (that's  the  luonsfer's  iiaine)  statement 
before  tiM'  coroner's  jury  was  corroborated  by  other 
w  ilnes-ies  before  (he  jui'V.  The  body  of  the  cb'M  told 
more  plainly  and  pathetically  than  words  could  of  the 
terriliie  piinishmenl  it  had  iindt'i'L^oiu'.  Several  of  its 
lin:,f(  rs  were  broken,  and  the  blood  had  oozed  froni 
every  pore.  To  conceal  the  crime,  the  lather  lied  the 
liltie  one"-*  hands  behind  lis  back  and  placi'd  it  in  its 
cidliu.  While  ]diysiciaiis  were  inakiiu:  a  iiostinortem 
examination  of  I  lie  body,  he  sat  by,  coolly  lookiUL,'  at 
the  i)roceedii!'_-s.  After  awhile  he  spoke,  and  asked 
them  if  Ihey  had  luit  carried  'this  thinir  about  far 
enouiih  'r'  'I'hr  |ihysicians  discovered  no  disea-  'about 
the  child  ;  it  died  sidely  from  e.seessive  and  cri!.  I  pun- 
ishment. The  lillle  one  would  ha\  e  been  Hirer  year.'S 
old  next  .\ll'.;ust— whipped  to  death  because  it  vould 
not  say  its  pr.ayers. 

'•Me  are  told  that  T.indsley  justitled  his  horrid 
work  !  lie  thinks  it  was  his  duty  to  punish  the  child 
until  his  will  was  broken  and  he  idieyetl.  J.iiidsley 
was  arroted  and  commilted  to  jail  in  .\lbioii.  It  was 
with  the  utmost  dilliciiily  that  the  ollicers  who  h.ad 
him  ill  char;,'!' could  keep'the  citizens  of  .Medii.a  and 
neiL.'hborhood  Iroin  lynchini,'  the  murderer  on  t  h  ■  spot. 
Lindsley  is  a  man  ahout  live  feet  ei;;ht  iiu  lies  iu 
IniLrhl.  "\vell  proporlii-ned,  ha.s  black  whiskers,  ami 
dark  complexion,  lie  has  the  apperaance  of  a  man 
of  violent  temper."' 

A  tcleirram  announces  that  l?ev.  Joel  I.indsley.  who 
beat  his  child  to  death,  was  released  from  cuslo.ly  on 
giving  hail  in  the  sum  of  iilO,OW.—Jotini(il. 

A    CI.ICnCJY.MAN    CONVUTKI). 

The  IJrv.  Joel  I.indsley,  like  the  l{ev.  Mr.  l?abiu.  has 
been  on  trial  charL'ed  with  murder,  but  the  result  has 
been  less  fortunate  for  him  than  that  of  tlie  .Xyliner 
trial  for  the  Canadian  clertrynian.  I.indsley,  who  was 
tried  at  .Mbion,  N.  Y..  was  accused  of  whiiipiiii;  his 
little  sou  to  <leath.  and  the  jury  tliuling  him  guilty  of 
mansl  nnrhter.  he  was  sentenced  to  be  imprisoned  in 
the  -'ai.'  prison  for  four  years  and  a  half.  A  thrill  of 
hori'r  Went  through  the  court-room  as  the  physicians 
testilii'd  as  to  the  condition  of  the  child's  body  as  seen 
by  them  after  it  was  laid  in  the  cotHu.  One  witnoss 
swore  that  the  boy  must  have  received  several  hundred 
blows  ;  that  the  body  was  covered  w  illi  black  and  blue 
marks,  the  skin  broken  in  many  places,  tin  nails  of  tlu 
hands  and  feet  lorn  up  at  the  sides,  and  cm  n  the  soles 
of  the  feet  and  the  backs  of  the  bauds  laid  bare  iu  phi 
ces.  J, indsley  acknowledged  that  he  h.id  alternately 
beaten  and  ••reasoned  with"  the  diild  for  two  hours, 
when,  observinir  a  change,  he  laid  liini  on  his  bed. 
The  poor  mother  cried  out.  '•  Why.  do;  iiny's  dying  !" 
On  this,  the  father  took  him  from  the  lietl,  ami  the  boy 
died  in  his  iinnfi.— Leader. 

THE    LINDSI.EY    W'HIPPINO    CA8E. 

This  Is  a  case  of  irreat  peculiarity.  Xo  one.  taking 
a  iiidina/  view  of  the  matter,  can  for  a  moment  suji- 
pose  that  this  fallier  IhUndod  to  kill  his  own  ciiiul. 
if  preiiieditaiion  i:^  an  ingredient  of  niiirder,  Lindsley 
is  not  a  murderer. 

Heretofore,  we  are  informed,  this  clergyman  has 
Hiisiaineil  a  spotless  repnial ion.  and  was  considered  an 
inolleiisive  man  :  therefore,  we  can  not  class  him  with 
'.hose  depraved  wretches  whose  evil  deeds  are  a  terror 
to  the  community  in  which  they  live.  >;or  can  we 
siipiiose  lie  was  so  iiillamed  by  anger  towi'.'il  a  little 
child,  tliiee  years  of  age,  that  lie  deliberately  pounded 
it  to  death. 

Mr.  I.indsley  has  jindiably  lieen  a  »ian  of  au:tero 
liiety— a  piety  that  is  inloleraiit  to  the  (ipinions  of 
others  and  uncouiproniising  in  its  dealings  w  iili  tho 
world.  There  are  thousands  of  such  )iersons  in  tho 
country  ;  they  are  men  of  iiniiracticabli!  minds,  who 
claim  that  they  should  ••  {{o  riglit  though  the  heavens 
fall,"  and  tlie.v  are  iii.w  illing  that  any  lliing  should  bo 
considered  "  rii;ht '"  unless  they  indorse  it.  Tliis  wan 
a  peculiarity  of  the  early  bcttlers  of  Ncw-Englund, 


'.)  T'tiinn, 

iiiiiiistor 
111  for  not 

if  a  cliilrt 

(•(•.Ills,  il 
C(  lied  IliC 

tlic  inliii- 

(1,  so  1111- 
llcil.    \\r 

(Ircadl'iil 
-hcd. 
lalcincnt 
liy  other 
•AvW  lold 
lid  of  tho 
'111!  of  its 
zed  from 
r  tied  tlic 

it  ill  its 
t  iiiortciti 
iidiiiii:  lit 
11(1  asked 
about  far 
ave about 
■ni'l  1)1111- 
irec  years 

it  "voiild 

is  liorrid 
tlic  child 
Liiidsley 
1.  It  was 
who  liail 
•dina  and 
I  til  ■  spot. 
iiK  lies  ill 
kers,  and 
A  il  iiitm 

sley.  who 
Liflotly  on 


ff- 


lahiu.  lias 

(•suit  lias 

e  Ayliner 

who  was 

iliii:  his 

.■■iiilty  of 

oiied  in 

thrill  of 

vsieiaiis 

seen 

'  witimss 

iiindred 

iiid  l)hio 

if  til  J 

he  solus 

ill  pla 

I'liatcly 

lioiirH 

bed. 

I\iii,ir  !" 

iliu  boy 


iakiiig 
nt  smi- 
i  chiRl. 
.iiidsley 

nan  has 
dcredan 
liiii  with 
a  terror 
will  we 
a  littl(3 
ounded 

an •tcro 
iocs  of 
villi  tliu 

ill  till! 
(Is,  wlio 

eaveliH 
loiild  b(j 

lis  \\a!j 
aigluud, 


APPENDIX. 


185 


who  pierced  holps  throiiirii  iiropK^'s  tonyrucs,  iind 
haii^'ed  them  on  the  friillows,  and  tianished  Iheiil  from 
tlic  coiuilry,  all  lu  tlic  uaiiie  of  their  uustere  ortho- 
doxy. 

TIk  se  jieeiiliarities  of  reliLjion  are  mostly  the  fault 
of  fdncalimi.  .Men  are  so  iiii|»resse(l  w  iili  tli(!  ■•duty" 
they  owe  to  (;od,  that  they  eoniinit  the  i;r(talest  oiiiiii- 
gcs  a;:ainsf  hiinianity  in  the  niiiiK!  of  their  Creator. 
Siicli  reliiriii'    is  wors("'  lliaii  no  relii,'i(ni  at  all. 

IJlit  lluis  IS  it  been  from  the  loiliiilatioii  of  the 
World,  not  oiii  with  the  Christian  reliy;ion.  liit  in  all 
forms  of  idohiM'v  How  many  victims  lmv(,  iilferud 
liceuiise  of  their  intolerant  sliiril ! 

'I'his  man  who  has  killed  hi-  child  is  to  lie  pitied  as 
Well  as  coiidemned.  lie  Is  to  le  jiiiii'd  be(aus(!  he  is 
so  narrow  iiiiuded  and  full  of  binotry  as  not  to  be  al)le 
to  understand  the  (li\  iiu;  truths  of  tlu^  Ma.'iler  whom 
he  iirofesses  to  serve. 

lie  is  condemned,  bet'ore  trial,  b\  all  dashes  of  the 
coimiiiinily — even  liy  those  who,  •-onie  of  ;iiem,  are  as 
bifToted  as  he  is,  aiid  by  disciples  of  .lesiis  who  pro- 
fess charily  for  all  nun".  WIiIUmv  ,ill  must  cry  out 
auainst  this  frii,'litl'iil  cruelty,  '.  i  us  speak  a  word 
ai^ainst  those  falsi  -yrtcmsof  .eliLn"!!  th.it  iiermit  the 
bi'aliiij.'  of  the  life  out  (•!  a  te  ider  ch.l'l 

Tlu^  aliove  is  from  the  itrleaiis  iN.  i  .)  lleiu'l'lican, 
and  il  j;ivcs  as  trood  a  (',  leiist-  of  Linii  'V  as  probalily 
CHIl  lie  Lriveii.  l!ut  it  is  noiiseiisi;  lo  say  thai  lu^  is  iiol 
a  ■•  depi'avcd  wretch,  "  whei.  lie  eiaild  beat  a  little  rliild 
two  hours,  even  ii'  he  did  im.i  iiu'aii  to  kill  it.  Such 
cruelty  is  the  bi-sl  evidciic.'   of  depravity. — Boston, pu- 


■NOTK  J. 

The  persecution  and  forcible  confliiomcnt  in  an  asy- 
lum of  Doctor  I'lUsler's  wife,  on  account  of  her  liberal 
o]iinioiis.  is  not  sucli  a  iiicture  as  may  be  merely  drawn 
from  the  iiiiau'ination  :  like  otlier  charges  made  in  this 
■work  atrainst  priestly  character-^,  it  can  be  sustained 
even  too  well  liv  iictual  laet. 

Till!  case  of  .Sirs,  i  1'.  W.  Packard,  of  the  State  of 
Illiiiohs.  one  of  the  I  lilted  Htates  of  AnKuica,  atlbrds 
H  good  illustration.  She  was  the  \wfe  of  a  minister  of 
tlie  (iospel,  "in  good  standiiiLr; "  lier  religious  ideas 
were  too  liberal  for  the  cramped  (r'thodo.vy  of 'her 
biu'oted  husband:  she  not  only  t"'lieved  in  but  ac- 
tually taui;lit.  I'liiversalism  ;  and  for  this  alone  slit;  was 
harassed  and  persecuted  by  Iter  reverend  i_\;aiit;  and 
at  last  wa-  roicibly  imprison<'d  for  a  long  lime  in  an 
insane  lios|iital. 

The  followin,'  letter  from  Jii(b(!  Uoardniau  will  ex- 
plain iiKU'e  fully  : 
'J'oii'f  /"  ivo/is  li'ho  ivmijil  itcnreto  dive  si/fD/xit/n/amln'n- 

coKi  •i/i/nm/  Id  <t  www/  iror/liij  /»it  /)ers<ci//i-d  iroiiian  : 

The  undersigned,  loriiirrly  from  the  Slate  of  Ver- 
mont, now  an  (lid  resident  of  the  State  of  Illinois, 
woiil  1  most  resiM'ctfully  and  fraternally  certify  and  re- 
present: 

That  he  has  been  formerly  and  for  many  years  asso- 
ciated with  the  legal  iirofession  in  Illinois,  and  is  \V(;11 
known  in  the  north-easieni  part  of  said  State  ;  that  in 
the  duties  of  his  profession,  and  in  the  otbees  he  has 
filled,  he  has  freiinently  investigattKl,  judicially  and 
otherwise,  eases  of  insanity:  that  lu^  has  given  con- 
siderable attention  to  inedi('.nl  jurisprudence,  and  lias 
studied  some  of  the  best  authors  on  thi!  subject  of  iii- 
saiiitv;  h.is  jiaid  irrcat  attention  to  the  principles  ;ind 
pliilo'sopbv  of  mind;  and  therelore  would  say,  with 
all  due  miidestv.  tlnit  he  verily  iielievcs  himself  (pi.-ili- 
tied  to  u'ive  an  iipinion  entitled  to  r(^spe(•l|■nl  considera- 
tion oil  the  ipiestion  of  the  sanity  or  insanity  of  any 
iierson  with  whom  he  niav  he  acipiainted. 

That  he  is  ac(iiiaiiiled  with  .Mrs.  K.  1'.  \V.  Packard, 
and  verilv  .)elie\es  he'.'  iiol  only  sane,  but  tliat  she  is  a 
jierson  ol'  very  superior  eiidov.nieiils  of  niiiidand  un- 
derstanding, naturally  possessing  ;iii  exceediiiLdy  well- 
balanced  ori:aiii;catioii.  which  no  doiiln  pi-e\ ciited  her 
beeomin!i-  insane  under  the  perseciilion.  inearceraliou, 
and  treatment  she  has  receive:!;  that  Mrs.  Packard 
has  been  the  victim  of  religions  tiigofry,  purely  so. 
without  a  siimle  ciiciinistaiic(!  to  alleviate  the  dark- 
ness of  the  transaction— a  case  worthy  of  tlie  palmiest 
davs  of  the  liniuisilioii. 

the  (luestioii  iiiav  be  asked.  How  this  could  hapiicn, 
es])eciallv  in  Norttieni  Illinois 'r  To  which  I  answer: 
That  the  C(nnm(ni  law  prevails  here  the  same  as  in 
other  States  where  thislaw  has  not  been  niodilied  or 
set  aside  bv  the  statute  laws,  which  trives  IIk!  legal 
cus;odv  of 'the  wife's  person  into  the  hands  ol  her 
husb:ind;  and  therefore,  a  wife  can  only  be  relieved 
from  oppression,  or  even  from  iiiiprisonineiit.  iiy  her 
husband,  by  tlie  legal  comphiinl  of  herself,  or  some 


one  in  her  behalf,  before  the  proper  Judicial  nutliori- 
tie-.and  a  hearing  and  decision  inilii  c.i^c.  as  vvai 
Hill!  ly  had  in  .Mrs.  Packard  -  case;  sli'  b.uwiiir  bci'ti  in 
the  lirsl  place  taken  bv  foi  'e,  by  her  husband,  and 
sent  to  the  insane  hospital.  « 'ihoiil  any  opportunity 
to  make  coniiilaint.  ami  wilhoiii  any  heariiii;  or  iir.  •  s. 
liv'alion.  I!nl  how  could  the  superintendent  of  li.e 
Insane  hospital  be  a  pnty  to  so  y;reat  a  wrona;?  Ve:y 
ei!-ily  answered.  witluKil  necessarily  imp(  aching  his 
honesty,  when  we  con-ider  that  her  allei;i(l  inanity 
was  on"  rellu'ioiis  siibjiits.  Her  husband,  a  nunister 
(d'  ;,'ood  standliiir  in  Ids  deie  lination,  and  tlu^  suiicr- 
inteiideiit,  synipatlii/ing  wiin  •  iin,  in  all  probatdlily, 
ill  reliLMoiis  (h'votions  and  belii  -upposed,  (dciuirsi-, 
thai  -he  was  ins-ine.  She  \mis  ;,'ally  sent  to  him  b.y 
llie  Milliority  of  her  husband  a  italic.  Mrs.  Paekaril 
had  taiiL.dit  doctrines  similar  to  llu^  rnitaiians.  rni- 
ver.salists,  and  many  radical  preachers,  and  which  (11- 
reiily  ojipo-'^  t he  dociri lies  her  husband  taii^dil  and  the 
do(  trill  cs  ol  I  lie  cliurdi  lo  which  he  and  .Mrs.  Packard 
belonged.  The  argument  was,  that,  of  course,  ttio 
wi  lan  must  Ix^  cra/y  ;  and  as  she  peis'sled  in  lic-r 
liln  ral  seiiliineiits,  the  suiierintendeiit  p'^rsisled  in 
considering  that  she  was  insane  I  However,  whether 
moral  blame  should  attach  to  the  superintendent  and 
trustees  of  the  insane  liospilal  or  not  for  this  'raiisac- 
lion.  olherthan  prejiulice  and  learned  ignorance,  it  is 
i|iiite  certain  thai  the  laws,  perhaps  in  all  the  States, 
ill  relation  to  the  insane  and  their  coiitln'^'>'ei,t  and 
trealmeiil.  have  been  much  abused  by  the  artful  and 
cuniiing,  who  have  incarcerated  their  relatives  for  the 
imrposc  of  ^jettiu:;  hold  of  pro|)eriy.  or  hir  dilfereitces 
of  opini  1  as  lo  a  future  state  of  e.\isteiu  ■  or  reli- 
gious belief. 

■'be  undersigned  would  further  state,  that  the  pi;h- 
liMicd  account  of  .Mrs.  I'ackard's  trial  on  the  question 
of  her  sanity  is.  no  doubt,  perfectly  n  lialih;  and  cor- 
rect; that  till.'  ji'.d.ne  liefoic  whom  she  was  tried  is  a 
man  of  learning,  ability,  and  hi'.di  standing  in  the 
juoiiial  circuit  in  which  lie  pr(>si(l,  -;  that  .Mrs.  Pack- 
ard is  a  person  of  strict  integrity  and  niithfulness, 
whose  character  is  above  reproacii ;  that  a  history  of 
her  case,  after  her  trial,  was  published  in  the  daily 
papers  (d'  Chicago,  and  in  the  newspapers  treneiaily 
in  ihe  State,  arousinir  at  the  lime  a  public  leeling  of 
i  11(1  iicnat ion  against  the  .nithor  of  her  ]ierseciition.and 
sympathy  for  her;  that  nothing  has  transiiiredsince 
to  overthrow  or  sei  aside  this  verdict  of  jiopular  opiu- 
ion;  that  it  is  hiu'hly  prolialile  that  the  proce  ilings  in 
this  case,  so  far  as  tiie  otHcers  of  the  St.ite  !ios|)ital  for 
the  iiisaiu^  are  concerned,  will  uiideigo  a  rigid  investi- 
gation liy  the  Legislature  of  this  Stale. 

The  undersigned  understands  that  .Mrs.  Packard  does 
not  ask  pecuniary  charity,  but  that  sympathy  and  fra- 
ternal assistance  which  may  .".iu  tier  to  olii.iin  and  make 
her  own  living,  sIk!  having  been  lelt  by  her  husband 
without  any  means  or  iirop(  rty  whatever. 

All  which  is  most  fraieriialiy  and  coniidently  sub- 
mitted to  your  kind  consideration. 

Wll.I.IV.M   A.   BOARIJMAN. 

W.vuKEciAX,  Illinois,  Dec.  .'J,  180-1. 


NOTE  K. 

DISTRESS  IN  EUUOI'E— StlFFEISlXa  IN   LONDON   AND 
FUANCE. 

T'hk  London  E.vcmiiner  ^txyii  of  the  distress  aiifong 
the  jioorat  the  East  End  in  London  : 

■•The  most  populous  (piarter  of  the  liietrojiolis  in 
craviiiLT  for  I'liod.  and  Chis  Jiiiliniidcus  has  to  fall  back 
on  pulilic  and  private  charity  for  the  means  of  keeping 
bodv  and  soul  together.  It  is  deplor.-ilile  to  find  sucu 
a  state  of  things  coe.\isti!iit  with  and  conliguoiis  to  an 
accumulation  of  wealth  such  as  was  never  a::irregaied 
before  within  the  same  s|)aee.  .V  world  of  coined  gold 
in  the  liauks  and  a  world  of  skilled  labor  in  the  hovels, 
and  no  employnieiil,  for  either  the  one  or  the  other — 
Midas  and  .Misery ,in  perilous  pro'cimily.  Let  us  not 
be.  unjust,  howev(T.  to  Midas.  'I'lie  gold  wliich  he  can 
not  Use  to  jirotit  for  liiinself  he  i;ives  with  an  uustint- 

/ing  liand  lo  save  his  poor  iieiL:liliors  from  starvation. 
The  mischief  is.  that  the  demands  of  poverty  rise  with 
the  supplv  of  charily.  Craving  want  luirsues  willing 
wealth  as  the  shadow  follmvs  the  substance.  'I'he 
wiiliii;:ness  of  wealth  leaches  want  to  crave;  and  in 
this  lies  ilu'  great  danger  of  the  situation." 
The  London  JhiUn  A(-/'',v  says: 

'•  Kveiy  winter  the  dry  and  rocky  bed  of  human  mise- 
ry in  this  rich  man's  coiinlry  becomes  a  torrent  and 
a'lmo.st  an  iniuidation  of  distress.  Instantly  and  in.a- 
riably  society  sets  ilselVto  work  in  an  irreuiilaraiid  lie- 

i  wiMered  iV.shioii  to  arrest  by  dikes  and  drains  this  de- 


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APPENDIX. 


Taatating  delufre  of  nnknown  and  nnminibcretl  fellow-  bnt  to  cross  the  Straits  of  Dover  or  the  Irish  Channel 
creatures  who  have  drilted  from  penury  to  sfarvation.  to  find  a  man,  fashioned  by  the  same  Ood  as  himself, 
Our  English  public  prifles  itself  on  its  philanthropy,  but  speaking  a  diflercnt  language  and  having  another 
and  rejoices  in  the  subfcript'on-lists  spread  before  its  history,  to  find  one  naum  it  was  justifiable  to  rob  and 
eyes  every  morninj'  like  an  oblation.     Hundreds  of   honorable  to  slay. 

thousands  of  pounds  ai  -i  distributed  by  checks,  to  the  ]  "  Conipared  with  savages,  Christians  have  only  been 
great  relief  and  satisfaction  <;♦"  the  charitable  donors,  better  in  degree.  In  the  ;*andwich  Islands  cannibalism 
to  all  sorts  of  committees  and  .ists  of  secreterics  and  used  to  be  slnl^il  only  when  the  victims  were  Sandwich 
collectors.  Nothing  was  ever  comparable  to  the  or-  Islanders.  An  Englishman  or  a  New-Zeaiander  could 
gani^tion  and  abundance  of  British  charity.  But  be  eaten  and  relisned  with  impunity.  We  hnve  stop- 
where  does  all  the  money  go  to  ?  St  ill  the  cry  of  want  [  ped  short  of  the  eating ;  but  there  is  little  else  we  have 
rises  up,  and  the  torrent  overflows,  and  men,  and  i  jot  deemed  excusable  when  our  victim  has  been  of  a 
women,  and  children  stai-ve  and  are  forgotten,  and  race  or  of  a  religion  diftcrent  from  ourselves.  The 
Btlll  the  checks  are  poured  in.  Then  comes  the  ever- !  doctrine  of  nationality,  misapplied  as  it  has  been  inis- 
lasling  confession  of  incompetence  to  deal  with  such  '  applied  by  the  ci'.nnibals  of  Otnheite,  in  days  gone  by, 
an  unexampled  amount  of  sutlerins.  I  has  really  been  the  origin  of  the  evil.    Englishmen 

"Svery  year  the  amount  of  sutfering  is  'unexam- ;  jmiy  earnestly  to  heaven  to  save  themlVom  a  contest 
pled."  Is  there  no  possibility  in  this  classic  land  of  i  with  a  kindred  notion,  and  English  statesmeft  grow  as 
men  of  business,  of  colossal  industry  and  cnteri)rise,  |  elo(,uent  as  Chatham  did  in  his  last  great  speech,  de- 
of  obscure  but  enormous  opulence,  of  arriving  at  some  |  picting  the  awful  sinfulness  of  a  war  with  our  breth- 
tolerably  direct  and  eftective  system  of  charitable  as-  ren.  when  Chatham  delivered  that  memorable  ora- 
eistancc  and  relief?  There  is  no  other  country  in  the  tion,  our  subsidized  Indians  wore  scalping  our  French 
world  that  professes,  as  England  docs,  to  find  bread  enemies  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  In  hundreds, 
for  every  man  who  is  willinj'  to  work,  yet  leaves  hun-  and  the  pitch-cap  and  triangles  were  in  the  hands  of 
dreds  ot  men  and  women  willing  to  work  to  perish  for  ,  every  British  ofllcer  in  Ireland.  But  there  was  not  a 
want  of  clothing  and  a  loaf.  Then,'  is  no  other  conn-  word  aoout  the  sinfulness  of  our  policy.  And  in  these 
try  in  the  world  that  has  so  many  millionaires— good  latter  days  when  the  danger  threatens  of  a  conflict 
men,  for  the  most  part,  and  church  or  cbapel-gocrs.  !  with  men  of  the  same  race  as  ourselves,  and  the  con- 
And  among  them  all  there  has  been  one  Pea  body ;  and  I  science  of  England  is  shocked  at  the  prospect,  it  never 
ho  is  not  ah  English,  but  an  American,  philanthropist."  i  occurs  to  Englishmen  to  question  whether  there  was 

Returns  up  to  the  present  year  (18(i!t)  go  to  prove  that :  not  just  as  much  moral  guilt  in  rushing  to  the  slaugh- 
in  Er '      ■  


England  is  on  the  increase  by  Ave  per  l  ter  of  Muscovites  in  the  Crimea,  and  In  blowing  rebel 
The  total  number  of  paupers  in  Great  i  Sepoys  Into  fragments  from  the  mouths  of  our  cannon, 

as  there  wouldbe  In  carrying  into  Charleston  harbor 
an  iron-clad  1\ill  of  the  horrors  of  war. 

"  What  has  this  false  idea  of  nationality  produced 
thi-ough  the  long  ages  during  which  it  lias  been  held  ? 
Need  we  travel  through  history  IVom  I'ersians  and 
Greeks,  to  Greeks  and  Kpmons,  and  then  to  I-ioinuns 
and  Carthaginians,  and  point  to  the  blood  which  was 
shed  and  the  sufl'eiings  which  wore  endured  in  the 
rival  nationalities  of  ancient  history  »  Modern  records 
are  but  a  repetition  of  similar  details ;  and  if  we 
want  un  illustration,  let  ue  see  It  In  the  relationship 
which  has  existed  for  r-oven  hundred  years  between 
this  country  and  Ireland.  An  Englishman,  until  a  very 
recent  period,  has  looked  upOn  an  irislnnan  much  in 
the  san;o  way  as  a  savage  looked  upon  his  captive— as 
a  fit  subject,  for  torture  and  death ;  an  Irishman  has 
naturally  regarded  his  persecutor  as  a  victiui  for  re- 
venge. No  matter  what  happened,  there  were  few 
qualms  of  conscience  on  either  side.  Th!'.ig;i  have 
been  d(me  to  an  Irishman  which  done  to  an  Amirlcan 
would  have  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  the  land, 
and  done  no  longer  since  than  the  days  of  our  grand- 


pauperism 

cent  annually.    The  total  number  of  pauper 
Britain  being  now  over  a  million— another  "triumph" 
for  the  reverend  Princes  of  Exeter  Hall.  I 

Advices  from  various  parts  of  Fiaiic(!  speak  of  the  ! 
great  misery  of  the  poorer  classes.  The  Avenir  Na- 
tional says  that  the  accounts  fl-oin  tin;  north,  centre, 
and  south  are  deplorable.  The  general  disquiet  occa- 
sioned by  the  uncertainty  of  the  government  policy, 
and  augmented  by  divers  circnmstunces  in  which  poli- 
tics do  not  much  enter,  paralyzes  industry  and  com- 
merce. The  Oii-onde  mentions  that  in  Bordeaux  the 
number  of  those  who  demand  bread  and  work  Is 
greatly  increasing;  that  the  guards  at  the  townhouse 
aro  doubled,  and  a  squad  of  nergentn-dfi-rille  stationed 
before  the  gate,  "  round  which  a  famished  crowd  ga- 
thers." At  Lille,  Auxerre,  Limoges,  and  other  tow.'s. 
the  charitable  boards  (Bureaux  de  Bienfaisance)  have 
been  obliged  to  adopt  "excepilonui  measures"  to 
maintain  tranquillity.  In  Paris,  the  boartis  of  public 
relief  have  received  nearly  400,0001".  from  the  Minister 
of  the  Interior,  and  even  this  hardly  sutlices.  M.  de 
Oirardin  pertinently  asks  whether  siu-h  a  state  of 
things  is  not  a  supreme  warning  to  Europe  that  it  has 


BOUKtthing  more  useful  and  more  urgent  to  do  than  to  :  fathers.    If  we  could  only  get  Englishmen  and  the  peo 


augment  its  armies.  If  it  be  not  to  make  war,  why 
are  they  increased  t  If  it  be  to  make  war,  why  is  there 
any  delay  about  it?  "Between  amputation  before 
gangrene  sets  in  and  amputation  alter  It,  who  but  a 
uiadinan  would  iKisitatey" 

In  other  countries  of  Christian  Europe  tht;  terrible 
details  of  poverty  and  suflcring  among  the  masses  are 
luoht  lamentable.  i 

NOTE  L. 

I'j  is  a  pleasure  to  find  thai  the  idea  advanced  in  this 
volume  against  NationiUiiy  has  already  occurred  to 
others.  The  following  article  from  the  Aortiiern 
Pretts,  as  publiHhed  In  the  London  JhiUic  Opinion 
of  March  21st,  18U8,  is  suftlcleutly  clear  on  that  sub- 
ject : 

"  NATIONALITY. 

"  Throughout  all  our  history,  an  Englishman  has 


pie  of  every  country  to  read  attentivaly,  and  not  as  In- 
dividuals, that  parable  of  the  Good  Sumaritan,  nation- 
ality would  soon  become  what  it  should  be.  Ileaven 
has  made  nations  ;  the  enemy  of  Ileaven  iisesHhem, 
and  will  continue  to  use  them  while  we  continue  to 
believe  that  the  commandment  lo  love  our  neighbors 
simply  means  that  we  are  to  love  those  of  the  same 
religion  and  the  same  race,  and  that  all  others  may  be 
lioted,  and  hunted,  and  made  stepping-stones  to  what 
men  cill  glory.  When  nations  are  only  diflercnt  that 
they  may  display  the  beauty  of  union,  no  Chatham  of 
the  ui tare  shall  rise  in  the  British  Commons,  talk  of 
the  horrors  of  war  with  our  brethren,  and  be  silent 
about  the  sin  of  slaying  those  who  are  not  of  our  race ; 
and  no  one  shall  enforce  the  special  duty  of  keeping 
peace  with  those  who  speak  our  language  without  be- 
iiiif  equally  earnest  in  protecting  from  destruction 
those  wht)  adopt  a  riifl'erent  tonijuo ;  the  world  shall  be 
one  great  nation  with  God  as  its  ruler,  and  Injustice 
Biiall  be  hijustico  wherever  perpetrated." 


he  Irish  Channel 
(Jod  as  himself, 
1  having  another 
flable  to  rob  and 

n  have  only  been 
nds  cannibalism 
8  were  Sandwicli 
Zealander  could 
We  hove  stop- 
ttle  else  we  have 
n  has  been  of  a 
ourselves.    The 
it  has  been  mis- 
n  days  cone  by, 
II.    tngliehmen 
ft-om  a  contest 
tesmeh  grow  as 
reat  speech,  de- 
ivith  our  breth- 
nemorable  ora- 
)ing  our  French 
?i  in  hundreds, 
1  the  hands  of 
here  was  not  a 
•    And  in  these 
IS  of  a  conflict 
8,  and  the  con- 
ospect.  it  never 
3ther  there  was 
J  to  the  slaugh- 
1  bloving  rebel 
of  our  cannon, 
irleston  harbor 

lality  produced 
lias  been  held  ? 
1  Persians  and 
en  to  lioinana 
ood  whicli  was 
sndurcd  in  the 
lodern  records 
Is ;  and  if  we 
le  relationship 
years  between 
!»n.  until  a  very 
mian  much  in 
Ills  captive— as 
Irishman  has 
victim  for  re- 
icre  were  few 
Th'jigH  have 
i  an  AmiTiam 
ugh  the  land, 
or  our  grand- 
in  and  tlie  peo- 
and  not  as  in- 
aritan,  nation- 
I  be.    Heaven 
!n  usesHhem, 
B  continue  to 
i>ur  neighbors 
e  of  the  same 
others  may  be 
tones  to  what 
difterent  that 
0  Chatham  of 
moihs.  talk  of 
and  be  silent 
)t  of  our  race; 
ityof  keeping 
e  without  be- 
ll destruction 
world  shall  be 
and  ii\Justice 


